Creature of Masquerade
by k.mski
Summary: Emilie Groves has no clue who the Joker is when she moves to Gotham. Of course, The Joker plans to take advantage of that and use her to kill a mobster who protects his life in puzzles. Together, they'll kill the mobster, but does a attraction blossom?
1. Hoped to God

"Miss Groves this, Miss Groves that," I mumbled tiredly to myself as I sipped the steaming coffee. "Miss Groves, my foot,"

My fingers set down the the black coffee cup, then began typing out each word. My eyes were glued to the screen as sentences formed to tell my latest story. The story was filled with murders, Victorian period women and men, a criminal mastermind, you know...the works. It was much more different then the world I was living in now. Well, for the past five hours, at least. Finally, I gave up the feeble attempt to continue with my story. Sighing in defeat, I grabbed my coffee cup again and got up, pushing my chair back slightly. The sun's weak rays were glittered with pink, and the clouds were glowing with a pretty orange. I leaned against the window and sipped the now luke warm coffee. The sight of Gotham City was a dreary one. It was like one of those cities that never sleep, with the ever-honking cars, shouting people, and the crime seem to seep from the sewers like a plague. The gray sight always arouse the same question in my mind; why did I move here?

That can be easily answered, just as so. You see, I am an author. A rather famous one, but I like to keep to myself most of the time. Human activity bothered me. Maybe it was because the stories I wrote were the worlds I'd rather be apart of. Who knows. But moving back to the question, I am an author. My publishing company, Binkton Publishers, was here in Gotham. It wasted most of my time to take a plane all the way over here from Salem, MA. Plus, the city had the just the atmosphere I need for stories. Excitement. Not for me, but for my stories. My excitement's limit was the grand journey of moving all my stuff here, then unpacking it all in two days. Then it goes back to staring at the screen, wishing that the story would just spring from my mind into an already published book. But magic didn't exist.

Some things about myself, I guess. I'm 21 years old. My name is Emilie Fay Groves. I'm of French Descent. My mother was Celine, and my father was Richard. Of course, it wasn't much of a family, but the place I lived was nice. When mom and dad argued, which was almost every night, I often left to see different landmarks of the Witch Trials. I had a interest with them, I guess you could say. Their past is what sucked me into the realm of creativity. Their screams of terror from the fires fueled me to write down my own screams of pain. Their stories ignited my stories. Dad soon left, leaving mom to raise me for two more years on her own. She fell into the abyss of alcohol and left me to fend for myself. I'm not saying she wasn't a good mother. She made sure I still had a roof over my head, food, and such, but she was always drunk when I saw her. Always bringing weird men into our home. When I turned 18, I left it all behind. I found myself my own house.

It was late one fall when I had planned a trip to Gotham.

I had to go to see my lawyer at Binkton about a new book of mine. I remember seeing how different people were here. They were dressed in these modern fur coats, hairstyles (I suppose to them, it was stylish), nice nails, luxurious tuxes, and such. I was dressed in regular flared jeans, a loose yet form-fitting black jack, my fingers were gloved, with a light, black scarf around my petite neck. My brown, wavy hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and my face portrayed the look of being overwhelmed. When I stepped into the building, I pulled of my gloves and stuffed them into my pocket. I had timidly walked up to the front desk, people busily talking and moving around the halls. Phones were ringing, fax machines were raging, the signs of a booming business. I glanced up at the lady behind the desk and said calmly, "Hello, I'm Emilie Groves. I'm here for a meeting?" the lady hadn't even looked at me at all, which would have been nice. I remember the bag I had been clutching in my frail fingers, and kept a hold on them.

"Down to the 7Th desk, with Mr. Bates," she said in an almost robotic tone. I nodded, resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and instead squinted in the direction she said. There sat a rather cocky looking man who was on the phone, laughing a obnoxious laugh. In that instant, I started to dread talking to him. But my foot worked against me and I soon found myself engaged in conversation with him.

"So, let's talk about the last book now, _How the Rose Petals Died_, was it?" Mr. Bates said, shinning his pearly whites at me. My calm, soft voice explained, "The book was a Gotham's best seller, was it not?" and Mr. Bates nodded at me, smiling still. "Fabulous book, 'specially how the woman, -Louise, was it?-, died in the lake!" I had to take note of this; he obviously didn't finish my book. That part was in the very first pages. I kept the remark to myself and nodded slightly. "Yes, I hope my new book follo-"

"I don't have your fucking money!"

After this outburst, every ones attention turned to desk 4, in front of ours. A frightened yet pissed man was looking at his lawyer across from his desk, and the lawyer stood up. The odd thing about this lawyer, however, was the purple hat on his head. Soon enough, the hat was on the desk, and screams were heard. My eyes adjusted to see the man who everyone seemed to fear. His wavy, mangy hair seem to be a green color, with the palest white I'd ever seen. What made me more intrigued, however, was the black that raccooned his eyes and the smeared bright red that turned his lips into an everlasting smile. He was dressed in a purple tux, with a green flower in the front pocket.

"Now now, Terry, remember we have hard working employees in here with their clients," as people rushed to get out of the way. My howl was among many as this burly man knocked over my chair, sending me flying to the floor. I tried to recover quickly as I felt for my papers on the desk and shakily took them. Something told me this man was up to no good. I managed to began crawling away from the scene, as the man in make-up called for his cronies. "What's wrong with this city!" I whispered to myself in desperation as I crawled towards a door to the far left side, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. I managed to succeed as I hurriedly flung the door open and shut it, myself being rushed in by my heart's need to get to safety. When I looked where I had entered, I was shocked. I had found myself in the Binkton library.

I felt a glimmer of hope as I rushed over to one of the bookcases, but alas. My excitement level, as I had told you, was over it's limit. The doors had opened again, and my first instinct was to just stop and wait to see what happened. I heard footsteps behind me, with a low cackling laugh, and I cringed slightly. "Excuse me, miss. But I'm in need of a book. I'd rather not kill ya, so just help me find it, and I'll spare you a finger or two," Closing my eyes, I could feel the cold touch of a knife against my skin, under my scarf. My heart pounding, I nodded weakly. "W-Which book, then?"

"The fellow I just so mercilessly shot said the Da Vinci Code, prettyface," Finally, my new captor was in front of me. The knife he had was tracing the same smile he had on his face on my cheeks. I trembled a bit, as his hand snaked around my forearm and pushed me forward, "Lead," His voice was now cold, ice cold. I numbly began making my way over to the fiction section. With adrenaline being my heart's only source of survival, I carefully ran my fingers down the spines of the books, echoing each name and author. "She was a sweetheart," I mumbled about one author, and was happy this man didn't hear me. I finally found the book he wanted, and pulled it out slowly. "The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown," I announced to him. My captor grinned a rather horrid smile, and said, "I need you too look prettyface. Find the Fibonacci Sequence."

Despite my pumping fear, I had to laugh. "You could have just asked me. I know it by heart," my soft voice cracked. The man looked at my puzzled, and then smirked. "You could prove to be useful after all," My heart sank. I was now going to be hostage to this crazy fool. He yanked my arm to him, and the book fell with a clatter to the floor. I gasped in pain at the grip he had on me, and followed him as he dragged me to the doors of the library. As if out of no where, I realized I couldn't just let this man take me. In the midst now of cowering lawyers and clients, I began to struggle wildly. "Let me go!" I screamed, as the adrenaline pumped even more now. The man laughed at my attempts, holding me at arms length from him. I then reeled my fist back and made to punch him, but he easily took my hand and twisted it behind my back. Holding me close to him, he whispered in my ear, after licking his lips, "You're a feisty one, then. I like that. I like that alot. But I can't afford to have you give me more scars on my face. Too many stories to tell the people I aim to kill. Too little time," his quiet cackle tickled my ears, and one of his cronies in a clown mask came up and said in a gruff voice, "Should we knock 'er out, Joker?"

'So, his name was Joker,' I had thought, heavily breathing as the Joker continued to restrain me.

I could hear the smile in his voice, "Morphine and a gun, doesn't that sound like fun! And hey, I rhymed," the Joker licked my ear, and I almost fainted in disgust. "Think I'd make a good poet?" he hissed, as the same cronie stuffed a rag in my mouth. The taste was sickening. The fumes were traveling to my brain, and I could slowly feel the mechanics in my body shutting down. I remember his cackle, and then the rest I can't remember.

When I awoke, however, I was in pitch darkness. I moved to lift my hand to my face, but they were tired behind my back. I resisted the urge to sigh and sat still. I seem to be on a cushioned seat of some sort. There was murmuring going on all around me. The words were slightly distorted. Yet, I heard the familiar voice barked, "Wake her up!"

Roughly, the blindfold that was apparently on me was ripped off, along with strands of my hair. I had to shut my mouth to rid the yelp that almost escape, and when I opened my eyes, I had the blurred vision of the Joker. His smile was doubled by his eternal smile, and he said. "About time, doll," He pulled me up and held me so close to him, my whole body was swaying like jello. He held me to balance me, and as soon as that was achieved, I was thrown against a metal door. Groaning in pain, and sat up a bit, bitting my lip in pain. My hands were freed with a yank of the rope, and I immediately rubbed rubbed my sore wrists. I had glanced up at the Joker, and he motioned his head to what I was leaning against. Confused, I sat up more, and stared at it. A safe. My eyes soon became clear and I squinted to see the small indentations indicating numbers. "The...F-Fibonacci Sequence, then?"

"Yes, dollface," was his smart reply, with an impatient click of his tongue.

I struggled to remember how it my fingers on the turn dial, I reeled it to the first number.

1.  
I turned the reel back to 1 again.  
2.  
3.  
5.  
8.  
13.  
21.

I was more amazed that the safe could have such a long code, rather then that I managed to open it. When it did open, I was knocked to the side, and fell against the wall. The Joker seem to gleam with excitement as he pulled out what seem to be wads of money. I sighed. Closing my eyes, I wished for this to be over.

It was about five minutes until I was pulled up against, and pinned against the wall, my wrists outstretched like a spread eagle. The Joker's face was so close to mine, and he whispered, "You gonna get something good outta me when I die. Thanks, babydoll," as he chuckled, and the rag was back in my mouth. The effect took hold the second I inhaled, and I was out again.

When I woke up again, I was back in my hotel room, in my laced nightgown, with my hair pulled into a pretty french braid, and my window was open. I managed to look at the clock on the bedside, but it was blurred by something else. My fingers wrapped around it, and I stared at what it said.

'Call me, Miss Groves,' was sprawled over a dancing joker on a poker card. I had to smile slightly. This Joker...I hoped to never see him again.

There you have it. My encounter with Gotham's most famous criminal. As I looked back on the event, I smiled slightly once again. I only smiled like this when I thought of the incident. I had got on the next plane back to Salem, and I haven't been back to Gotham till now, a year later. Remembering all this, it was the only flaw in my plan to be closer to Binkton. But I had to risk it.

I quietly finished my cold coffee and made my way downstairs, my cat Abigail purred against my legs, and I grinned. "Oh, Abigail, no more. You can't chase monsters in the dark anymore." I was referring to her infamous rat chases through my old house in Salem. She meowed at me, before pouncing upstairs and into my room. I went into the kitchen and set my cup in the sink. Locking my door, I turned out the lights. The city lights dimly lit up my Victorian furniture. So, I had an interest with the Victorian Era also...

Making my way up to my room then, I tiredly laid down on my bed and snuggled my face into the pillow. Too lazy to change, I let the low buzz of the city lull me to sleep.

I hoped to God I never saw him again.


	2. Pretty Voice, Doll

"Good morning, Gotham City! Clear, sunny day today, please stay tuned for traffic and weather ahead! Oh! And be careful, that crazy Joker is still running around. Lock your house doors, car doors, and pray to God for a safe day!"

The perky, chipper news reporter was such an ironic person to be telling about the Joker. But the reporter did his job well, for I had opened my eyes, and the radio flooded my ears. My bed began making movement, but I didn't bother looking up. I knew it was Abigail, who was meowing at me and licking my hand. Lazily, I began to ran my fingers over her orange and white fur. She purred happily, nudging my hand to keep going. I chuckled quietly; Abigail was like my baby. My cute, tabby baby. I had found her at the pet. She was just playing around with her little toy, she had looked up at me, and mewed. That was enough for me. After that, she was my baby.

Abigail, however, wasn't up for cuddling this morning. She jumped off the bed and meowed at me again. Rolling my eyes, I shut off my radio with a nudge of my fingers, and pulled the covers off. Getting out of bed, I yawned and stumbled to the bathroom across the hall. Turning on my shower, I got in and enjoy a long needed, yet short massage from the hot water.

When I had got out and dressed in a black turtleneck and flared, light blue jeans, with cute white socks, I ran a brush through my hair and made my way downstairs. Abigail continued to meowed her little mouth off, and I had to shake my head. "Hold on, Abby," I murmured and opened the window, enjoying the crisp smell of autumn. She mewed her annoyance at me, and I rolled my eyes. I set hot water in a pan and on the stove top. I then made my way to a cabinet next to the fridge. I pulled her cat food out and shook the box slightly, and she seem to get more excited. Laughing, I poured her food into her food bowl, and she began to munch away. Smiling, I put her food away and then used the hot water to make myself some coffee. After buttering my bagel, I made to take my first bite.

The bagel would've have tasted great, if I had eaten it, the phone ringing interrupted me. I sighed and set down my bagel, before moving to the living room. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the distance and tripped over a box. Cursing loudly, I manage to pick up the phone in time. Sitting on my couch, I answered, "Hello?"

"Miss Groves?"  
Again, Miss Groves this, that, "It is,"  
"This is Commissioner Gordon, with the Gotham City Police Department. We have a letter for you down at the station,"  
I sat there confused, but replied, "Yes, can it be brought here?"  
"No, but we think you better come down here. We have to question you of the contents and the sender of this letter," I could hear the hesitation in his voice.  
"Yes, alright," I said back, bitting my nails now, "I'll be right dow-"  
"No need, Miss Groves, we'll provide the escort," Gordon said hurriedly.  
I furrowed my eyebrows. This man was acting like it was a life or death situation! "A-Alright, 1441 Grapevine Drive,"  
"Thank you, someone will be there shortly,"  
"Oh, well...alright, bye," I hung up the phone and glanced at the grandfather clock by my window. 10:13 AM. Good Lord.

I shook my head at the situation, and went to go eat my bagel and finish my coffee.

At 10:26, there was a knock at my door. I got up from the living room, setting down what I was reading (something by Philip DePoy), and answered the door. The cop looked at me and smile. "Miss Groves," and stepped back. His face looked a bit too perfect, with pretty eyes. His voice, however, is what made he question myself; had I met him before? I laughed a bit at the idea and pushed it to the back of my head. "One moment," I said to him, grabbing my bag full of papers and my laptop neatly positioned in. I also threw my sneakers on and ran a hand through my hair. "Alright, I'm ready," my calm voice said. He nodded and opened the door all the way, and I stepped out. He walked to his police car as I locked my house and went to the car also. Sitting myself in, he shut the door for me and smiled a rather...odd smile. I just smiled back politely and pulled out my Sansa SanDisk Fuse and turned the song over to 'Ophelia' by Darling Violetta. The female singer's voice was like a muse leading poor Ophelia to her death. I had always loved this song, and soon found myself so entranced I had to sing quietly also.

_Lying in a field of flowers  
A choir of angels gently sing  
Their melody carries me away  
Lifts me from my misery_

As began entering the downtown area itself, the buildings outside my window began to become more frequent. More people becoming blurred. Smoke rising from sewers below. I always hated cities. But I was pulled out of my reverie as we stopped finally. I looked up to an industrial type of building, on the front read in large, rusted gold letters 'GOTHAM CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT'. I wrapped my ear piece headphones around my Fuse, and set it in my bag. Getting out, the cop then said, "Ya got a pretty voice, doll," I stopped, and the Joker's words of 'doll face' rang through my head. But people must use that pet all the time here, right? Looking at him, I smiled softly, "Thank you, sir," as I shut the door. When I turned from the car and blushed a hot red. I didn't mean to sing in front of him...Laughing, I then began to make my way to the building. I pushed through the big doors, and stared at the sight ahead of me. Same thing I encountered a year ago at Binkton a year ago. Busy, busy, busy.

As I had done before, I made my walk shyly to the front desk. This lady looked a lot more kinder. She gave me soft eyes and a warm smile, saying, "It's cold out there, isn't it."  
I hadn't noticed, because I'm normally out during the fall, and I was used to it. "Yes, it is," I lied politely. "I am here to speak with Commissioner Gordon?"  
She nodded her head slightly, and leaned over her desk. "See that door right there?" She pointed her pencil to a door with the blinds closed. I nodded.  
"Through that door. He should be free," I grinned and said, "Thank you, ma'am," and I made my way to the door. Knocking on it, I quietly waited as the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man. The gray hair made me think of my father, how he must be old now. "Miss Groves, thank you for coming."

Shaking his head, he opened the door for me. I entered and looked around his office. There were pictures all over the office walls, along with newspaper articles, and official looking papers on his desk. When I took a seat, I still had the song playing through my head. The song flow was broken by his voice. "Miss Groves-"

"Please, call me Emilie," I told him quietly, smiling. He smiled back at me, though it was a bare smile, it was still there.  
"Emilie...I know you're new to town. But...regarding this package...I'm at liberty to ask. What do you know about the Joker?"  
The seriousness in his voice made me want to giggle, but I then choked on my silent laughter when I heard the question. "The Joker?"  
He nodded.  
I sat there for a moment. What did I know about the Joker...  
"Well..." I began, and told him the story that took place a year ago. I told him the major points, leaving out details. Before 12 o'clock on any day was too early for me to talk about important things. As I told the story, he listened to me intently. "...and the card said, "Call me, Miss Groves,"  
_  
Led here in a shroud of desperation  
By the darkest starlight in my sky  
Waiting for the neon crucifixion  
Of innocence and what was mine_

He was quiet for a long time, it seemed. But finally he spoke to me and lowered his voice. "I have a video for you, Emilie. It's from the Joker."  
I almost choked again on my saliva. What? I wasn't even in Gotham for more then 17 hours and this crazy fool knows I'm here? I nodded weakly, and my voice produced sound, "W-Well...let's see it, then.."

He stood up and sighed, popping the video in. I watched as he turned the TV on and the screen screamed static. When he sat down, I noticed as lines of black appeared, and the static was replaced by a low cackling laughter. Goosebumps traced my arms, unnerving me beyond belief. The video was swaying and distorted for a minute, and it finally landed on the Joker's face. It was still the same, just like how I had remember. The eternal smile, the raven eyes, the mangy green hair. He was still laughing at the camera, it seemed he was holding it, because the stability was poor. "I know your watchin' this now, and boy do I have something for you!" His voice was sickeningly sweet, smiling at the camera. "The smile is red, the eyes, well, dark hue. Look out, Miss-fucking-Groves! I'm coming after you!" I struggled to keep watching this dementia. "Told ya I'd be a damned good poet," My heart sped up slightly. My eyes watched his 'innocent, smiling' face turn to a icy cold glare, like his eyes were staring into my soul, like he was hunting me down. "You and I have business to discuss, doll face. Be ready," he said the last part in a singsong voice, "Ta-ta!" The video then turned the attention to a blurred vision, before the video turned back to static.

My head was dizzy. I wasn't sure if fainting would would somehow wake me into a different reality. This wasn't happening. I prayed to God that I'd never see this man again. Ever.

"Emilie," Gordon began softly, after he allowed me a few minutes to recover. I stood up, picking up my bag and saying squarely, "I would like to go home now."  
He stared at me in disbelief, then slowly nodded, sighing. "Yes, I'll have my cop escort you ho-" but before he could finish his sentence, I had shut his door behind me. I wasn't afraid at all. I was just nervous, baffled. I past by detectives and other people, running a hand through my now-dry hair. The lady at the front desk had waved at me, and I waved back hurriedly, but stared straight ahead of me.

Why after a whole year? Better yet, he still _remembered _me after a whole year? Well, then again...I was a famous author. I had at least nine books out, all were Gotham's bestsellers for some time. But all I had been was an asset to his plan that day, just a step to getting richer. That's all! What more could he want!

_If I could hold you  
I'd try to show you  
No one can own you  
What difference does it make  
_  
As I hurried down the steps, holding my bag closer to me, I spotted the same escort from earlier. The city's noises were becoming louder then I could handle now. I had to get home, where it was calm, and comfortable. Making my way over to the police car, I flung open the door and got in, feeling slightly dizzy. I shut the door, and took a look over at the cop. He was looking out his window, saying, "Told you to be ready,"

My heart sank. I should've known. The signs were at my front door earlier, literally. I trembled as I watched him look over at me. He pulled his hat off, and his green hair fell down in greasy waves. His black eyes stared at me, and his smile curved into another smile. I could see the pits of hell in his eyes. I opened my mouth to gasp, but nothing came out. I was officially rendered speechless. Placing a gloved finger to his chin, pursing his bottom lip out, he mocked a little, frightened girl, "Oh, the Joker's the cop! What do I do!" as his sneer reappeared, and he grabbed my chin, making me look at him, and he patted my cheek roughly. Licking his lips, he brushed his hair from his face. "We're going on a drive, doll,"

I almost fainted as the car then sped off, making a sharp turn onto God knows what street.

_  
The water's quiet and calm  
Makes me feel like I am home_


	3. Tha Man Named Batsy

My hands had flown to the handle above the car door. I swore, my heart was going to popped out of my heaving chest at any moment. The buildings were a massive blur, there were other cars screeching, trying to get out of our way. People were shrieking, jumping from the road. I was surprised we hadn't crashed into anything yet. Another sliding turn on the road, and I glanced over at the Joker. He was smiling viciously, yellow teeth showing, and laughing a bit. Shuddering, I realize we where finally on a highway. Catching my breath, I then said between wheezes, "What in the world are you doing!" In a shrill voice. I never yelled.

He continued to laugh, and gave me a look like, 'Isn't-it-obvious?' and laughed, "Driving. And who's driving here, missy?"  
I studdered, my hand on my chest, "Y-You are,"  
"Well, unless you don't want to become a delicious human pancake on the road, I'd suggest you shut it," He replied mockingly, and I stared at him. I wasn't going down that easy.  
"I want to kno-" but the sting of his hand across my cheek brought me to sudden silence.  
"WHAT'D I SAY, BABYDOLL?" he shouted at me, his words dripped with vemon, making another wide turn. I screamed slightly, my eyes wide and my heart racing as the Joker barely missed an oncoming car. I could feel his enjoyment rise as my torture continued.

After this, I remained quiet, keeping my eyes on the blurry road. Alas, I wasn't left a moment to relax. He seemed to have noticed and in spite of me, he began turning his wheel from left to right, making the car dodge in and out of traffic. Every sharp turn he made resulted in my head hitting the window, and I soon got a sidesplitting headache. Holding my head, I looked over at him. Unbelievebly, he had one hand on the wheel, his other hand seemed to be holding a piece of paper, and he was studying it. I wasn't even afraid of him now; I was scared shitless for my life! But then he tossed the paper at me and smiled, licking his lips, his voice back to the childish splendor. "I need you to decode this. See, I am a man of no patience with letters, numbers, codes, etc. I hate secrets. They tear friends apart, families apart," He gave me a teasing sad look, and continued, "I like things to be blunt. I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Or, my face. " he began laughing at this also, shaking his head slightly.

"Why didn't you get someone from the Cryptology Department?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes.  
"They themselves are secretive police. They could do the job, but they have secrets too. We don't like secrets," he giggled.

I watched him for a moment, then I completely trusted him to drive...somewhat safely. I figured he would, because he didn't want to loose this paper in the crash, did he? Looking down at the paper, I was puzzled beyond belief. All it said was 'Hvrp fl Wfejtvq' I stared at it, and felt for a pencil in my bag. Pulling on out, I begin to think of all possible words for the 'fl'.

_'It's two lettered. Two lettered words. At, no, to, it, is, in, on, of....I'll put it as in, first. What in what?'  
_"Is this the name of a place?" I questioned, still staring at it. "Yeppers!" he answered happily, swerving to the left, making my head hit the window again. I sighed in frustration.  
_'Then it obviously isn't in. Of. It's of. What of what? ....well, the 'f' is the same in the next word. So... what of Woejtvq.' _I then laughed, _'A place in a city. Like, City Hall of Gotham. So, that's What of Gotham. Well, I'll take the v out of here and place it in the other word as well. Harp of Gotham. Harp? That doesn't make sense,"  
_"Harp of Gotham?" I asked myself, shaking my head slightly.  
He licked his lips, "Well, that's about the more stupidest thing I've heard, makes me happy knowing that I kidnap idiots,"  
Ignoring his comment, which was hard, I focused on the anagram again. _'Harp. Harp...not Harp. What would make more sense?'  
_"Bank of Gotham," I announced, looking up at him. He grinned at me, and all of a sudden, his hands moved the wheel to the left. He was doing a u-turn on the highway. Only, I felt the car hit another car, and ride over. It did a bit of a fly to the other side of the road, and cars on that side flew different directions to avoid collision. I was on the verge of screaming, burying my face in my hands. When I felt the car land with a huge thud, I was breathing differently, like how fear chokes the breath out of someone. The Joker burst out laughing.

"Come on, sweetcheeks! This is way better then those crummy rollercoasters!" He screamed in laughter, speeding down the road.  
"How do you figure?" I gasped, my frightened eyes peeking through the fingers of my hands. Adrenaline was coursing through my body. I almost almost in hysterics.  
"We could actually die,"

His answer made my heart skip several beats. But I watched him as he reached out, and I flinched, shrinking from him. He began caressing my cheek sweetly, and said, "Sh sh sh sh sh," as he seemingly pulled out a rag from behind her ear. "Like magic!" He cackled, and handed it to me, licking his lips. I stared at it confusingly, holding it up to my eyes. It reeked of chemicals. I set it on my lap, disgusted. As if the question just popped up in his mind, he looked at me from the corner of his eyes. "Wanna know how I got these scars?"

I almost replied no, but I thought about the consequences of that action. I wanted to live, I decided. "How?" I asked him weakly.

"Well, I was little, a wee lad, and I had met new friends. They were so cool. They said I could hang out with them too! Only, if I did what they wanted. So, I says to them, 'What can _I_ do?' They answer me, 'Give yourself a smile! You always fucking frown!" His voice began trembling with excitement, licking his lips, " And they said, 'With this!' and they handed me a razor! Well, could you blame me? I-I wanted to belong! I wanted friends! People to hang out with! So I took that razor, and I jammed it to my lips. I began slicing the flesh, and the pain just edge me to keep going! Kept going, kept going, slice, slice, slice!" He made another turn to the right. I gave a yelp of pain as my chest rammed hard into my seatbelt, but I kept listening. "The next day I showed them. And you know what they did? You know what they fucking did! Said I was a freak!" He licked his lips, and began swerving all over the place again. "And they laughed and giggled and pointed and humiliated me!"

He kept laughing away, smacking the wheel with both hands. "A freak! But we both know I'm not a freak, am I?"  
I was quiet for a moment. Letting the story sink in. It was very tragic indeed. But when he questioned me, and I looked up at him. "N-No. Just..."  
"JUST WHAT!" He screamed at her, and it seemed like he was pissed.  
"J-Just...brighter then others!" my voice squeaked, as my chest continued to heave. He burst out laughing.

His laughter faded after a moment. He then glanced at me. "Stuff the rag in your mouth, doll,"  
This made me baffled. "Why?"  
"Because," He licked his lips, looking at me, as if he was looking over invisible glasses, "I need a hostage. Volunteer hostage, if you please,"  
I had it in my mine to tell him no, but again, I wanted to make it out of this situation alive. I nodded my head slowly, but questioned him.  
"W-Will it...kill me?" I asked timidly, and jumped when he started laughing again.

Once again, he begins cackling, and soon I believe it'll begin to make my ears bleed.  
"No! I don't want to kill you yet! I'm done not with you! And beside, you're more useful then Harley ever was," He licked his lips.

I bit my own lip and my attention turned to the name Harley? Past girlfriend? Cronie? Who knew. I didn't care at this point. I stare at the road ahead of me, surprised this car is in one piece. With tremendous effort, I gave a heavy sigh and closed my eyes. _'Just like it's medicine, down it,' _I thought frantically, letting all the air out of my lungs, and stuffed my mouth with the rag. The chemicals began to sting and numb my mouth at once, and I inhaled deeply. The fumes began to trickle into my body, and my mind began to slow down more. My eyes glazed over. I had no support of my body now as my vision went black, and I think I fell against the Joker. But I'm not sure.

Bang, bang, bang. Gunshots. I think they were. Loud ones. People were sobbing silently, men were barking orders, gunshots kept firing. Where was I? I attempted to open my eyes, grabbing my head in pain. Moaning softly, I tried to adjust my eyes to my surroundings. It looked like a small room, with a desk, lamp, bookshelf, small table, TV, and chair. The TV's low humming told me it was on. I could see a few awkward things now. A bullet rack. The bookshelf had all black books, but one red book. I realize I was leaning on something, and turned around to see. Moaning in pain again, I felt my back and arched it. Was I laying against another safe? Squinting my eyes, I looked up to see--who else--

"Finally. I thought you had _died_," The Joker said dramatically, patting my cheek roughly to wake me. I shook my head a bit, pulling his hand off of me. He only smiled big, and said, "Crack the code, doll," and cackled, leaving the room. Again, the man left me baffled. Crack what fuckin-

But my eyes settled on the weird bookshelf. All the book were black, with a book book on the third shelf. Tilting my head, I put my fingers on the cold dial and turned it to three. Settling myself on my knees, I turned to look over my shoulder. That blasted TV. I squinted my eyes, and noticed what was flashing on the screen; 24. I then hurriedly turn the dial and past 24, and landed on it the second time. Once more I looked over again and looked at the bullet rack. All these weird things laid out like a map. Getting up, I made my way over, jumping as gunshots sounded out. My fingers trailed over the bullets, and I picked one up. Examainning it, it said in small engravings, '47.' It was the last number. Hoping it was the last number, I turned it to 47. My anxiety was put to rest when the safe clicked open. Swinging it open, there were only two things in there. A drawstring bag and a piece of paper. I pulled the items out of the safe and jiggled the bag. It made odd clinking noise. I felt through the fabric, and almost made a guess until I was interrupted.

"Dollface! Ya got it!" The Joker 'cooed', walking out and snatching the items from me, licking his lips. I then smiled as sweetly as I could and said, "Now, may I please go!" and the Joker gave me a cold, hard stare. His ice were straight ice, but they seem to burn into my soul. He stepped towards me, and I heard a small 'click!' Next thing I knew, I was in his arms, with his one hand gripping my hair, the other with a knife to my lips. I had no time to register the situation I was in. His face was inches from mine, our noses were almost touching. His voice was covered with venom like a strawberry in chocolate. "Those people out there, see, they think your a hostage. If you don't like one, _terrible _things happen." He tightened his grip. "You don't want to let me down, do you?"

My eyes stayed open the whole time. Every word of his was poison, and it took over my mind. Slowly, I shook my head. He smiled, carressing my cheek with his knife. "Good girl, babydoll," as he let go of me, more like slightly pushing me. I rubbed my head a bit, and he grabbed me again. He threw my arms behind me and held them there, his knife to my throat. I trembled, now I was getting scared. But oddly, he sensed it and again, "Sh sh sh sh sh," he whispered in my ear, cackling, licking his lips. In an instant, he was dragging me out of the room, and the sight I saw was rather horrid. His cronies were holding guns high, shooting bullets into the air. People were cowering on the floor, some crying, some dead still. Bad pun. "Thanks, ladies and gentleman!" The Joker cackled. I didn't struggled whatsoever.

I heard a low growl. The Joker swung around, me still infront. My eyes then focused on another man. This man was in a rather odd looking black suit. He had a mask on his face, with points ontop like they were ears or something. "Batsy! I'm surprised you came! I was wondering what took you so long," The Joker said mockingly. The man named 'Batsy' responded in a low growl. "Let her go,"

I felt the Joker's chest heave with laughter. "Let her go! She came on her own accord! She actually likes me," The Joker had to grin at this, and pointed to knife at himself when he said the last part. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Came on my own accord was an understatement. Batsy moved closer to us, and I felt the impulse to step back also, but I stumbled against the Joker.

In the next instance, the Joker was dragging me along, with explosions ringing out behind us. I looked over the Joker's shoulder, watching the back of the bank erupt in explosion. He jerked me forward, and set me down in the car. I got up in my seat again and watched the inferno through the back of the car. My eyes went wide and I gasped as another BOOM sounded. The car door shut and the Joker had began to speed off, zigzagging through cars. I sat down again, turning to face him. "What the hell was that! How did those explosions happen! What did you do-"

"My clowns rigged that place to the bone," He giggled, licking his lips, making a sharp turn. "Rigged it-?" my voice trembled as another boom was heard, and I jumped to look behind us again. A huge black vehicle was racing towards us, fire illumanting the back of it. "I-I think Batsy is following us, Joker!"

"That's the spirit!" The Joker began squealing with laughter, speeding the car up even more. My fingers frantically moved to hold onto something as we hit the highway. Different vehicles were honking and skidding away from us, some smashing into bulidings like a bug hitting a windshield. The car began to swerve again, the Joker was humming away. As much as I hated the Joker at this point, I saw no other alternative to survive except to move over to him and hold onto his arm. He didn't swat me away, too hysterical with driving. "Is Batsy bad?" I asked him desperately. He looked down at me, licked his lips, and pretended to look thoughtful. "Yep. He's an outlaw, just like you and me,"

"Me?" I squealed, but I didn't get an answer, mostly because the Basty's car was now right beside us. I jumped up in surprise, now clinging to the Joker with all my strength. Batsy had shouted something at us, but I barely understood as the Joker now seem to get pissed. He pulled out a gun from seemingly no where and rested his hand on my arm that was clinging to him, and began shooting lazily. "Batsy wants to play! Well good, I need some excitement." He said, licking his lips. The Joker made a left turn, and Batsy followed suite, revving up his engine as well. When Batsy was back up with us again, the Joker didn't look phased at all. He just started shooting again, humming away. With every shot my heart began to pump faster. My grip on his arm tightened, and I buried my face into his arm. The air smelled of burning rubber and pollution. I turned my face once more to see Batsy pulled out a different looking gun. He pointed it at us and I screamed, hiding again in the Joker's sleeve. A small thud was heard, with a tiny zip, and all of a sudden, an earsplitting creak. Bitting my bottom lip, I peeked from my hiding spot and almost fainted. My door had been ripped off.

"Ah, he likes to dismember things to! See, I wish he would understand that we have alot in common!" The Joker stated and began shooting again. I was trembling like crazy now, and tears began to fall down my face, slightly dampening his sleeve. We made another left turn. A rather sharp left turn.

My grip on the Joker slipped, and I began sliding quickly from his side of the car. At the backlash of the turn, I felt the wind hit my face, a flying sensation, before I plummented into the road. The searing sensation of pain mixed with my over-the-limit excitement, and I fell into darkness.


	4. A History of Your Own

The sun was shinning.

Too bright.

I must be back in my room. Sleeping in my bed. Enjoying my problem-free life. Yes, I'm home.

If I wanted to continue thinking I was home, I should've never opened my eyes this morning.

Slowly, I woke up. As soon as the light hit my pupil, my chest and limbs began to hurt. I shut my eyes and moaned loudly, moving my head from the blazing golden rays and to my right. When they opened again, I focused in on the green line creating mountains on a screen. A destolic scent was irritating my nose. Wait, what? An anti-septic-

"Oh god," I mumbled, and the event from the night before flooded into my head. The cop car, the Joker, robbing that bank, Batsy, falling out of the car...."I...no, I couldn't...my Lord, I robbed a bank," as I stared at the screen some more. "And I'm in the hospital." The idea was sinking into my mind. And honestly, I had landed myself in here, I did this to myself. I tried thinking of possible ways to defend myself, along with the famous, 'He made me do it!' but every attempt of mine failed. Fair and square, I willing helped him.

And look where I've ended up. Pushing the idea from my mind, I then studied the room I was in. It was the dull hospital white, with those damned inspirational pictures all around the four walls. The TV was on some ludacris show about teen pregnancies, Heaven-bright rays were striking through the open, spotless window, and the annoying machine was beeping every second. And I happened to have a vicious headache. I was not in a good mood this morning. My thoughts finally went from the Joker to my stories, then to my house, and lastly, my poor Abby. She was probably sitting in that lonely house, meowing at my bed and pawing at the pillows. My stomach churned just thing about it. I reached up behind me, thinking, _'Where's that blasted button?' _and my hand smacked the wall in random spots, before I harshly pounded a button. A low ring was heard, and I set my hands back down. I waited, and stared out the window.

The nurse was quick to answer my button-smashing. She opened the door and gave me this motherly smile, and in a cheerful voice she piped, "Good morning, Miss Groves!" She appeared to be in her mid-forties, with blonde, curly short hair, pale skin, and pretty hazel eyes. She was a chubby women, I figured she had grandchildren too. I nodded slightly to her, and she came over to my bed, doing the normal things nurses do. She checked my papers, the machine, and I asked, "I'm sorry to be blunt, but what the hell happened to me?"

The nurse had to smile, and she then sat on the chair next to me. "Well, Miss Groves, you came in last night very unexpectedly. A young man came in with you in his arms, and reported that you had fallen out of a speeding car. He supposed you were trying to get away. Well, we got you to the emergency room. We had no clue who you were, and the young man recognized you as the author, Emilie Groves. You have quite a few bruises, a bruised rib, scratches, and six stitches on your pelivs. We cleaned you up, and laid you here. You slept all night,"

The story was not accurate. I wasn't exactly trying to escape. But I did fly out of his car, I remember that rather vividly. I then looked away from the nurse, and she asked, "You do have a visitor. Shall I send them in?"

_'They must be fans,' _I thought dryly, but nodded to her. She got up and smiled, before leaving the room.

Soon, however, the door opened to reveal someone totally different. For one difference, he was a man. He was tall, in a black suit. His hair was a chocolate brown, with a handsome, chiseled face and very lovely eyes. Watching him, he quickly stepped to me and offered me a warm smile. "Hello, I'm Bruce Wayne. I brought you in last night,"

I shook his head, and said in surprise, "Well, thank you Mr. Wayne!" and I sat up a bit, looking up at him. "I'm Emilie Gro-"

"I know, Emilie Groves. I'm a huge fan of your work. You're latest, _How the Rose Petals Died, _is an instant classic," His smile widened a bit, and I blushed. Not because of his smile, but I was always flattered when it came to people complimenting my work. "Thank you, again, Mr. Wayne,"

"Please, call me Bruce," as he shut the door, and stood at the foot of my bed. I nodded once more at his request. "Bruce it is," I said, too cheerfully for myself. He didn't notice.

"I uhh, well I had found you on the road, and you looked...you looked pretty bad. So I picked you up and carried you here. They knew who you were, obivously, you're a best seller here," Again, I blushed, but I realized that what he stated was a lie too, "And they fixed you up and brought you in here,"

As I listened to this, I felt a rush of gratitude to this city. Atleast some of the citizens weren't over-egostical jerks. This opinion proved to be true from the next thing he said.

"I am also paying for your medical bills,"

My jaw dropped. I had to stare at him and almost laughed. What in the world! I had heard of nice people, but this was strange! Then I snapped out of my reverie and moved into my pleas of, "Oh Lord, please, you don't have to! I can pay, it's not hard," He then held his hand up to silence me.

"Believe me, it's my pleasure to care for a lady," Bruce said, and I resisted rolling my eyes. Laughing, I then said, "No, really, I can pay-"

"I insist," Bruce smiled once more, and looked her over, "It's the least I can do," His answer made my attention perk, and I wondered. What else had he done? But I shook my head a bit and smiled back, "Well, it works out then," and he grinned. We talked for a bit more, until he had to leave for a meeting. I then told my nurse I wanted no more visitors. I was then given little white pills to take. I down them with the apple cider I requested, and the nurse left and turned the lights out and close the windows.

I passed out after an hour of taking them. Curse the hospital. Sleeping pills....

_It was a pretty autumn day. The local cemetery was colored in reds, oranges, browns, and yellows. The sun was shinning it's weak rays into the cemetery, dancing on the grass, splitting its rays on the dead, almost-naked branches. The wind twirled the leaves all over, and gave life to the cemetery. People were out hanging Halloween decorations, and the witches was a favorite theme.  
_

_  
And there I was, running around the graveyard, in my jeans and jacket, barefoot. I was chasing her, and almost catching up.  
_

_  
"Give it up, Caroline!" I shouted, as the leaves grazed my calloused feet. My sixteen year-old body had adjusted to being barefoot, so the small pains from fallen acrons and tiny rocks didn't bother me anymore.  
_

_  
I could hear her laughter, as she tossed her red hair over her shoulder and glanced back at me, replying, "Give it up? I highly," she jumped over a fallen tombstone, zigzagging through the solid, stone stories, "Doubt that!" and I sped up, the wind picked up greatly, and after about five minutes, I managed to tackle her to the ground. We were both laughing like little girls again as we went down, laying there for minutes as we heavily breathed. When I caught my breath, I sat up and grinned at her. She continued to lay there, so I laid beside her, and she turned to her side, facing me. "Well, what do we do when fall break ends?"  
_

_  
"The usual, dork. Schoolwork. Writing. You know," and she laughed again, the sun ways were sparkling in her eyes, shaking her head, "Wake up, Emilie. We can just sit around and not take control of our own lives," and then her voice turned more colder, more bitter, "Wake up," I frowned and stared at her with confused eyes, as her eyes became more isolated, and she began patting my face roughly, "Wake up!"and then, something that I felt I had seen before. She licked her lips.  
_

_  
_Awaking with a start, my eyes shot open and my breathing quickened. My heart rate was pounding millions of miles per second. Somehow my hand had found it's way to clutching my chest, and I gulped heavily. The crickets played their night time song, and I heard locusts buzzing lowly. The streetlights shone into the curtains, and I realized it was night. I started to calm down, whispering, "It's just a dream. A nightmare. The horse...brings awful things," as I looked down, blinking a few times. "That man is getting to my head, he is,"

Slowly, I then looked up again and to my right to check the time. Instead of the time, however, was a bright red, smeared smiled and pitch black holes of lunacy.

The smiled then cracked open into words, and I heard his voice fill the air. "Good evening, Miss Groves," the voice dripped with mock seriousness, "It's a damn good thing you woke up. It would've looked strange if I dragged you out by your feet through the hospital doors, there,"

I pulled by face back, and it was true. I was hoping that it was only part of the dream. But no. There he sat, in that bloody purple suit, with the messy make-up, and greasey green hair, in the stupid chair. He had his legs crossed, and he was watching me intently with a smirk. He licked his lips. I glanced at him, and then I leaned back slightly. 3:07. A.M. I then looked at the Joker again and finally, my voice had the courage to speak. "What the _hell _are you doing here?" I asked point blankly.

He pretended to look thoughtful, licking his lips, "Well, I was going to have a reunion with some dear, _dear, _friends of mine. " Licks his bloody lips, "Lucky for you, you're going to see my sparks of friendship,"

I stared at him, confused, and my head began spinning, before I laid back down on my pillow. I was relaxing again, "What do you...mean..."

"Long story, sweetie, we'll catch up on that later." Well, he cut that off quickly, "For now, I must tell you. I like you. I'm going to keep you, like a pet. That's half the reason why I'm here," he snickered, licking his lips. "But we got to getcha outta here first, pumpkin," and it was now that I realized he had his gleaming knife out, fingering the blade as if it was a soft flower. "So, are you able to walk? Because if you walk, it'll save us ti-"

"Have I ever told you how I became an author?" I asked suddenly, as the thoughts began clouding my head. I looked over at him, my eyes pleading to tell it. I was echoing his own question.

He stared at me, pursed his lips a bit and licked them, before he threw his leg over the arm of the chair, and said, "No, you didn't. You got three minutes. Elaborate," his sickly sweet voice invaded my mind. But it seemed he was taken aback. Has anybody ever cut him off?

My words began flowing from my throat, "When I was twelve, I was passing by this house. It was a cold winter day. Very cold, the snow was everywhere. The house was abandoned, black, sad-looking. I could feel the sorrow creep oout from the broken windows. Through the broken windows, ivy crawled up the wall and into the window."

"I hate Ivy," the Joker snapped, shaking his head. I continued, ignoring his comment.

"No one knew _anything _about this house. It had a lonely aura to it. It struck my curiousity. One day, I felt a story there. It was hidden. Deep in the cobwebs. It unfurled, and I listened. I made the story. There was a married couple. They loved each other more then anything possible. They used to sit in the swing in the front yard, he had it hanging off a branch on this tree. Well, one day, the husband left. He went to war. He kissed her goodbye, and was gone. The wife stay loyal, she did. She took care of the house, the yard, and anything else that he would've done. She lived two lonely years without him, and prayed that he'd come home someday. But her prayer was never answered. They came and told her that he had died in the war. Well, she was devasted. Her heart fell into isolation that day. And year after year, she stopped caring about her health. One day, she died. She was buried under the swing in the front yard," I sighed, and caught my breath. The medicine was still effecting me.

"I told people my age that story. The story got around. The town soon knew it by heart. And in the spring, the house was fixed up. The house got a family. Because it had a past, people didn't fear it. Soon, the house was the host of gardens, parties, birthday....happiness. And it made me realize. I gave it a history, and it wasn't so lonely after this," I cracked a small smile at the Joker, my eyelids fluttering. "I breathed life into a decaying box. Now it's filled with laughter,"

He's quiet. I looked at him still, "In a way, you're like me. You gave Gotham a history of your own."

He had his finger in his mouth, then laughed. "I liked that. I liked it alot. Because Ivy isn't good company. Batsy just came out of nowhere, we don't know where. I did make history," he pointed to me, shaking his finger, "I like you. I'm going to keep you," He repeated from earlier. "You're a smart one. You aren't like the others. We could could be great, you know," He then stood up, licking his lips, and I looked to the window, rolling my eyes. My eyes were distorted a bit, and I noticed my body was more numb then when I first woke up tonight.

"Let me give you something," He grinned, licking his lips. He then pulled out a card from nowhere, and I glanced it. It was the same card he left me a year ago.

"My calling card!" he said rather loudly. He stood there with a knife in one hand, and a card in the other. I should've feared for my life. But I was too numb with painkillers. He moved over to me, and took my arm, then asked, "Let me see your arm," I obliged, and he pulled up my turtleneck sleeve, I suppose I was still wearing the same clothes. Sticking the card into my mouth, he smiled at me and licked his lips. I was staring at him with a rather dazed look. He then gave me a look of mock confusion, and said, "Is my smile too big?" in his childish voice. I shook my head no ever so softly.

He then flickered the knife in his fingers, and my head began to turned to the other side. "Keep your head straight, or it'll look unprofessional." and I nodded again, and turned my head to see him. He then stared at the card in my mouth, studying it, and soon drove the knife into my arm. He began sliding the knife over it all. The blood oozed from the lines, and I barely felt the pain. I watched him carve God-knows what into my flesh, and he slipped. "Oops!" He giggled, "Well, everybody makes mistakes," and he continued this macabre art.

In the next moment, he had finished it. I stared at the symbol, and realized it was the 'J' from the card. He then grinned at me and said, "So, this'll show anyone that you work for me now," and I had to smile just a bit. So, he had to mark me too? Did he honestly think I'd run away, or something? I watched him throw the knife behind him, and it hit something with a squishy noise.

"Can ya walk, pumpkin?" he shot the question at me, and I sat up, throwing the covers off of me. I attempted to get up, but the medicine was preventing me from doing so. I glanced up at him, and shook my head. He licked his lips, and rubbed his chin with his fingers 'thoughtfully', then moved towards me. I narrowed my eyes and backed a bit, and he shook his head, clicking his tongue impatiently. His arms slipped around my waist and he lifted me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I was shocked, as he positioned me, and I looked from behind me to the floor behind him. I almost screamed, but all that came out was a disgruntled gasp.

On the floor, lying in a pool of blood, was my nurse. Only, she was laying on the floor in an almost-struggled pose, still in her night nurse outfit. The knife the Joker had thrown had landed in her chest, as blood poured from there also. Her eyes were open wide, and the most disturbing thing was the smile on her face. It was like her lips had been pulled up to form the eternal smile. In her hand held a lovely purple flower.

"Joker, what did you do!" Emilie whispered in a hushed voiced, tearing my eyes from the dead nurse.

I heard his laughter, "Oh, I uhh..." licking his lips, "I think everybody should laugh. Laughter makes the world go round, yet laughter burns the world down."

"She's dead!" I hissed at him, this was unbelievable!

"Well, people die at some point," He replied, "Some die without laughing. I'd like to change that," and then he moved over to the door and cracked it open. I heard silence. I suppose the hallway was deserted. I then moved my eyes down, and rubbed my forehead with my fingers. "This is ridiculous," I whispered to myself.  
I felt him fumble with something in his jacket, and I heard whatever it was beeping. He then said happily, "You get to see me test new chemicals. Aren't you excited?" I knew the only answer to this, and said it dully, "Yes, sir,"

He laughed, licking his lips and saying, "I figured you'd say that," and he held the item up. "Boom, boom, bang, boom!" He began laughing hysterically, and pressed the button. To my devastation, I heard a large explosion somewhere in the building, and his wheezing laughter echoed through the hallway.


	5. Isn't That Romantic?

I heard sirens go off immedaintly. Loud, heavy sounding bangs were crashing to the top floors, along with agonizing screams of pain. Faces of terror were now rushing past me, and when most saw the Joker's ever-smiling face, they'd either faint or run the other way. He had his grip strong on me, and his laughter was violent and hysterical. Medical carts were being carelessly thrown, syringes scattering the floor. I watched as the Joker stepped on the needles, liquid squirting out of the ends. Pills sprawled over the floor, people were laying all over the floor. I buried my face into the Joker's back, trusting him to not drop me at any point. Another earsplitting explosion was heard, and my ears began to ring.

"There goes the seventh floor," The Joker grinned knowingly, licking his lips and holding onto me tighter. I began screaming into his back as my legs laid limply. The medicine was still weakly coursing through my body.

My screaming got cut off as this huge doctor ran past us, his shoulder turned at the perfect angle that threw me off. The ringing in my ears got so much louder that tears fell down my cheeks. The next thing I knew, my body had hit the floor of the hospital. The was a searing pain in my ass, and I began crying now. People were still running all over the place. I had been stepped on so many time when I reached the side of the hallway, I wouln't be surprised if my fingers were black and blue. I leaned against the wall and hauled myself up, looking down the hall. That fucking, stupid, idio-

There was another blazing rage of explosion down my hallway at the very end. I felt my heart skip several beats. My breathe was now lost, and I gripped the side of a doorframe. People were screaming louder, and I swear my blood was curdling now. Somehow, I didn't expect to be saved at all. I silently made peace with my self and my work I had done, and felt another breeze of explosion hit. I closed my eyes as I heard the crackling of burning people rush past me, or had a seizure from the pure sensation of pain. "Lord, help me," I whispered silently, biting my bottom lip and crying even more.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt myself being lifted up and thrown over someone's shoulder once again. The fire was hot as hell, the wind of it was making me dizzy. Someone had saved me. Someone heroic, someone to keep safe. I hope.

"You're proving to be more of a problem then I wanted, honeybumps,"

Oddly enough, my heart didn't drop out of fear of him. My fingers clung to his back, and I knew now I was going to make it out alive. He turned down through many halls, and I heard him mumbling about making the wrong turns into random rooms. Screams were still being heard, and another floor collasped. I, however, buried my face into his back again. I didn't want to see the sick patients of this hospital on fire, I didn't want to see how many people had died. The stench of scorching flesh made my nose twitch slightly. The Joker swung around, my foot kicking someone in the face and knocking them over. He began laughing shrilly at this. My ears began to ring again as gunshots were heard. The Joker had his gun out, and was shooting down random people. He was still laughing, the site of frightened, desperate people running like horrified little animals amused him greatly.

"Princess," he hissed, and set me down at some exit of the hospital. "There's a fire a'coming, right? So, I need you to crack this code. Pronto," as he carressed my face roughly, turning me to see the door.

It was an odd lock; it was a bloody turndial. A turndial with a handle under it. I was shaking slightly, and I glanced at Joker. My legs them gave out, I was trembling beyond my wits. He placed his hands on my forearms, yanking me up and saying, "Come on, 'Milie!" I moaned out of pain, before looking down at the turndial and studying it. It was on a certain tab, and I had to grin a little bit, desperate my growing anxiety. I didn't need to crack anything but logic; someone must had gotten out of this door already. All I did was push the handle down, and shoved it open. "Good girl," The Joker said, shoving me out first. I stumbled into the warm night, wheezing and choking. I was coughing into my hand, swaying all over the place. My arm was still crusted in blood. I looked up, expecting to see the Joker.

He wasn't there.

My anxiety got a sudden boost. I gasped, eyes wide. Where did he go!?

Then the door swung open, with a laughing Joker stepping out. "I guess I had to come out also, huh?" as he stepped towards me. I was relieved. I closed my eyes quickly, then opened them, almost joyed to see him alive also. He was my only hope to suriviving this castrophe. Pulling his jacket open, I watched him reload his gun. My mind was blank. This was all so surrel to me. Wasn't it just a few minutes ago that I was talking to that Wayne guy about my bestselling books? My eyes blurred my vision for a moment, and another large crash was heard. I suppose another floor collaspe, though I'm pretty sure that a few had crashed already. The blazing building was bright; I could see every inch of the Joker's face as he gleamed with sadistic happiness, shooting people down again as if I didn't matter one bit. The white make-up was creased on his face, the black was fading slightly and smudged, as his red smile smeared a little all over his lips. His green hair was wet and gleaming with sweat.

Finally, I couldn't hold on anymore. This was all way too much for me. I placed a hand on my pounding heart, tears falling quicker down my face. This wasn't all a dreamed like I had been praying for. My body's excitment level had been broken. I closed my eyes, and I began crying for all I was worth. I fell against the Joker's chest, burying my face into his jacket and clinging to him, sobbing like the scared little girl I was.

I felt the Joker moved back a bit, mumbling under his breath. I was moving towards him, crying loudly. Not that I had any choice. The combination between medicine and anxiety was restricting the use of my legs. I had no control over where I fell. Yet, he moved back still, and then we stopped. The Joker's shirt was wet with my tears now.

"Hey, mister, mister," I heard the Joker say.

"What-" I suppose the guy he was talking to finally saw it was the Joker, "Oh...oh, my god!"

"I..I need you to take the girl, and I'll trade ya her for the SUV," and a gun was pressed to my temple as I was turned around roughly. "Then you can play hero and hand her to the police and yadda yadda yadda,"

I could hear the waver in the man's voice, "Yes, yes, of course!" as the man got out of the SUV, and the Joker brought me around, slightly dragging me. I followed suit, the gun to my head didn't scare me anymore. But I was just being handed off now?

I felt the Joker shove me over to this guy. The man wrapped his arms around me protectively, handing the keys to the Joker. I felt slightly disgusted by this man, but I kept my mouth shut. My legs were starting to gain their balance again. I moaned in pain. "Shh, shh, I got you, you're safe with me." the man cooed. The man was brushing the hair from my eyes, and wipping my tears, rubbing my back, whispering things that he thought would comfort me. The Joker turned to leave me. He was really going to lea-

The slice of the man's lips made me look up at the Joker. I turned around, and watched as the man on the ground screamed in agony, clutching his mouth as mouth oozed between his fingers. I gasped, my heart rate sped up, but the Joker had thrown me into the SUV. He got in also, and shut the door, laughing and giggling as the man screamed. "I like my job! I love this! I love my job so much, oh yes I do!"

I stared at the Joker as he licked his lips, and he began fumbling with the man's keys. Shaking my head, I then snapped out of my sobbing state, and snatched the keys from him. He stayed very still, and I began moving him to where I was, and saying through gritted teeth, "I'm driving, I've about had enough," Which was true. My excitment level was sky-high.

I was thrown against the driver's window, his hand had a powerful grip on my hair and the bloody knife was to my lips. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he breathed against my lips also. His eyes stared deep into mine. "Where did you find all this courage, 'Milie?" mockingly.

We were in a very awkward position. He was almost ontop of my, and my body was pressed up against his. I coughed slightly, and the tears rolled down my cheeks. "Since I realized that Batsy's the bad guy, not you."

He was quiet, tracing his knife up my cheeks and dancing it on my quivering lips. He was humming to himself, and I heard the police's sirens. I then whispered gently, yet firmly, "I'm driving,"

The Joker gave in after a moment. Sitting back, he then looked at me, "Drive, then. Get going, pumpkin!" and I started the SUV up, turning the key and the SUV rumbled to life. I backed out of the parking lot, and began zooming away. I was a more safer driver then the Joker was, obviously. I safely manuevered around the cars, of course I was making illegal turns and such, but I got us out of it alive. Only, I would've done very smoothly. But the Joker just had to pull his automatic out of his pants, I think, and began shooting at the ceiling. I screamed in surprise, swerving slightly and looked at him briefly. He had made a hole in the ceiling, and was shooting at the cops chasing him. He was laughing hysterically. Shrilly. When he sat down, I had every intention of screaming at him till my throat was hoarse.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"Trying to keep us safe from the looney bin, my sweetcheeks," he giggled at me, sitting down and opening his jacket. I growled in slight frustration. He seemed to know he was infuriating me even more as he then lit a grenade on fire in the SUV. I almost had a heartattack. I stared at him and hissed, "Throw the fucking thing!" He smiled at me, and said, "Atta girl!" as he stood up again and threw the exploding ball of hell. It hit one of the cars, and I heard another loud BOOM! My ears began ringing. He then sat down and leaned back, smiling and licking his lips.

"You know, pumpkin. Half the time, I don't even have a plan! I just go with the flow, and twist things my way. Wouldn't this be so _boring _if it was going according to plan? Why waste time doing everything step by step? People panic more when there's no plan. Makes it easier to start chaos. I wouldn't achieve my goal if I had a plan. I'd just get plain old bored," all in a mocking tone. I listened to all of his words, and I turned the wheel to the left. I then opened my mouth to say something.

"So if I wasn't part of the plan, why keep me?"

He stood up again, knees on the seat, and began shooting even more, rapid gunshots were terrorizing the police. I sighed as I waited for his little 'killing spree' to calm down. When he sat down, he began playing with his gun, and heard the sirens fade away. "Look, princess, the police are gone! You're really good at this," and he licked his lips. Then he began with his answer,

"You were a bonus, Miss Groves. You-" he began looking thoughtful. Teasingly. "You remember when we first met?"

I nodded, driving steadily.

"You...you knew that code by heart. You cracked that code without failing once. I was...impressed." he licked his lips, "Me, impressed," and he began laughing again, "I needed you. Isn't that romantic? I needed...you!" as he roughly caressed my cheeks. I let him, just trying to concentrate on the road.

"Make a left, now,"

I obliged.

"I needed to use you to get what I need. So, when you moved back here to this lovely city of Gotham," he said that part sarcastically, licking his lips, "You made it all easier for me. I could," he began laughing even more, "Sweep you away like the mastermind geniuses in your story, right, dollface!"

This made me think. I was quiet for a moment, as our surrounding began more dangerous. We were in the bad side of the city now. I looked at him, smiling softly, and said knowingly, "You've read my books, then. You actually spent time and read them,"

This left the Joker speechless. He opened his mouth to reply with a smart attitude. But his words failed him.

We pulled up to this huge abandoned warehouse. It was a looming place, towering of us as I quietly got out of the car. I shut the door behind me, and stared up at it. It had broken windows, barrels laying around the place, trash rolling around like tumbleweed. The place looked like it had been burned down, badly. I noticed there were lights shinning very faintly through the cracked windows. What made me glare in shock was the immense amount of joker cards laying around the front. The Joker had stopped to watch me as I stared in awe, then impatiently grabbed my wrist and began dragging me to the warehouse. He swung the huge doors open, his grip tight on me, and I was rushed into the building.

He stopped in the doorway, and I peered over his shoulder to see also. There was a table towards the middle of the factory, with two men sitting at the table playing dominos. They wore clown masks. The door shut behind me, and the Joker left me to go to those men. He stared at both of them, and slammed his hands down on the table. The dominos vibrated from the sudden movement. He got in their faces, shouting, "Where's the camera! Is it charged?" One of the men nodded quickly. "Fetch!" The Joker barked at them. They got up, more like srambled up, and began moving rather quickly to the door.

I stood there and watched, my heart was starting to calm down. Why did I even bother staying? The Joker was giving me full opportunity to escape. Why didn't I just lea-

But the next thing I knew was that the Joker had a gun out and shot both of them midway to the door. I jumped slightly, and bit my bottom lip as the men fell dead to the floor.

"I can't have any...liabilities, can I?" as he licked his lips.

I shook my head 'no', softly.

He smiled, and motioned me to follow him. I did so. I stepped close behind him, but he just stepped right on the dead cronies without a care in the word. I, however, carefully stepped around them, and held onto the Joker's shoulder to balance myself. When I was balanced, I let go.

His hand smacked the wall next to him, and the light turned on. Again, my eyes widen in awe. The room's walls were covered in newspaper articles. I was intrigued.

"So, sweethcheeks," He began, but the aged articles made me ignore him completely. I moved past him, glancing up at the articles slowly. Moving around the room, I vaguely heard the Joker mumbling to himself as he began messing with the things in the room. I didn't even know there were things in the room. But when I read these, I was slowly gather information. There were atleast five or four main people in the newspapers. Who? I pieced together that it was Harvey Dent, Gordon, Harley Quinn, and Batman.

The pictures all had black circles drawn around the eyes, with red smiles scribbled over the lips. I squinted my eyes to read closer. Batman....Batman...

"Oh my Lord," I breathed, and snatched the picture off the wall. There was the same man that I had seen that night, with the awkward looking mask. I stared at the picture in disbelief. I looked over at the mumbling Joker, and asked, "Is this Batsy? His name is Batman?!"

He stopped what he was doing, and slowly turned to me. He licked his lips, and began stepping to me. He nodded. "Batman. The Batman. He's not a hero. He's a vilgante. The man is simple-minded. He believes in just hunting scum. I, however, want to change the world. Do it some good. But for some weird reason, Batman thinks I'm...joking," and he licked his lips, grinning. I noted the play on words and rolled my eyes slightly.

"And who's that?" I asked him, my fingers pointing to Harvey Dent.

"The new DA. He's out to get you. Get you for helping me with my crimes. He's out to get us, sugar," I glared at the Joker ever so softly, shaking my head. Arrogant jerk.

He then moved away from me, and I heard a loud crash. Letting the article fall to the floor from the sudden surprise, I looked over to see a chair in the middle of the room. The Joker motioned me to sit down in it.

I did so without hesitation.

When I sat down, I noticed the things in his hands. Make-up. I was baffled, but the thought was cut off as he grabbed the back of my hair, and pulled my head back. Groaning, I watched him through my half-closed eyes. He was licking his lips, and painting something on my lips. It felt slightly sloppy, and I stayed perfectly still. When he finished, he pulled back slightly, then said, "Pink or blue?" and I blinked. Deciding to make this easier, I replied, "Pink,"

"Pink, of course you'd choose that. Pink is for girls," as he began dapping pink blush on my cheeks, a bit harshly. I let him. Finally, he had black on his fingers. Black eyeshadow. The Joker looked at me and I sighed a bit. Closing my eyes, and heard him lick his lips as he began smearing it all over my eyes, messily. I let him.

"A masterpiece! You look rrrrrrr-riveting!" he dragged the 'r', and pulled out a mirror. I slowly looked at my reflection. My lips were done in a pursed notion, like a victorian doll, red as his lips. My cheeks were a bright, innocent pink, while my eyes were a shadow black. Not fully black, but like it was fading greatly. My hair was in a messy of curls, I still had on the now dirty black turtleneck. My arm was crusted in the blood that had spilled out of the 'J'. I was a mess myself. I glanced up at the Joker. He was licking his lips.

I was then handed a piece of paper. Staring down at it, I said, "What am I doing, Joker?"

I suppose hearing his name said so calmly and gently wasn't something he was used to. He stared down at me, and began twirling his finger around. Leaning over to me, he said, "I have to tape you reading these, doll. I'm making a video, see, and you are the star,"

I then nodded. Pulling away, the Joker smiled at me and licked his lips. He picked up the camera and turned it on, and pointed it at her. The red light on the camera turned on, and the Joker was giggling. He was recording me. I cleared my throat, and projected a powerful, anxiety-free voice.

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman," I began, and he started giggling some more. "Today, we are going to witness a new plot in the history of Gotham. As an author myself, I believe anyone can make the plot. However, only few can twist it. One of those people being the Joker."

"_Me,_" the Joker stated plainly.

"That being said, the Joker would like the Batman to asisst him in this twist. He would like to know the location of Vincent Grecco. Starting tonight, if the location isn't told, meaning Batsy refuses to cooperate, then places will blow up. Churches, to be exact,"

The Joker then made the camera face him, and he was giggling into it, dancing around a bit. "Isn't she a sweetie! She's such a _witch!" _his voice was filled with sadistic happiness, as he then shut the camera off, laughing shrilly and shaking his head. The 'witch' comment made me smile a bit. He knew the history of where I came from, too.

"Joker," I said clearly. Something about being around him made me feel safe. Not in a romantic way, but I just knew nothing would happen to me when I was with him. "I'm tired. I want to sleep now,"

Waiting for his wheezing laughter to cease down, I set the paper on the chair as I stood up. He soon regained his posture and nodded. "Come with me," he licked his lips. I realized he was being a bit sweet now. I think he was, atleast. He carried the camera with him. Yawning, I followed him closely down the ruinned down walls and corridors. The floor was litered in joker cards, some burnt, some with bullet holes through them. I yawned again. "Where's that video going?" I asked him, rubbing my eyes.

"To the DA's office. I need to scare the living daylight out of the man. And Grecco," his voice was childish, as his eyes sparkled with dominance.

I left it at that as we reached a door. He opened it, and mockingly offered it to me. "Goodnight, Miss Groves. We'll have a big day tomorrow!"

I tiredly nodded, and sighed slightly. Passing by him, I looked around the room. It had a bed. No frames. Nothing. Just the bed. It'll do. I then turned around to face the Joker, and yawned once more. Then, with all the seriousness I could muster, which was alot, I replied, "Goodnight, Joker."

He grunted and shut the door, mumbling away. I smiled.


	6. A Creature of Masquerade

_"Quiet, you'll wake Jim up!"_

"Oh please. That old man won't wake up if 'Nam was knocking at his door."

"Vietnam? He looks old enough to be in that war,"

"What happened to being quiet?" I then asked, now baffled at her reply.

The flash of a teasing smile on Caroline's face in the pale moonlight made me smile too. Her auburn hair was thrown up in one of her infamous messy buns, and her attire tonight was a cute black dress that gave her chest an 'oomph'. Her beauty made me envious. Even at sixteen, she was easily one of the loveliest girls in Salem. Where's I was the plain Jane. Dark brown curls were pulled back into a ponytail, I myself in a brown dress that hugged my curves. But I didn't adorn my face in make-up like Caroline. Why? Oh, well, she always seems to know what she was doing with the make-up. I was too afraid to even touch the bloody stuff.

The air was very crisp. The wind that placed goose bumps on our skin was slightly chilly tonight. The wind lightly nudged my face into the direction of our goal.

The abandoned house.

Many people had said that it was haunted. Infact, that was now a 'fact'. But a new legend was on the rise. It talked of a madly-in-love couple, the man left for war, the woman left devastated. The house was a looming brick one, with ivy, dead and living, crawling up the sides as if to suck every inch of life out. The windows were broken, shutters were hanging onto hope, shingles had fallen off, and the gutter was close to completely tumbling. The yard was a story of its own. Not having been cut in years, it grew up to wild lengths like a miniature jungle, hiding dark secrets deep in its roots. Wildflowers poked out from random spots, and a large, gloomy tree hung over the right side. Its branches were naked with regret. They sprawled across the night sky like ink spilling onto paper.

'I still remember the world,  
From the eyes of a child.  
Slowly those feelings,  
Were clouded by what I know now.'

"Caroline, wait up!" I hissed at her, and trudged through the sea of grass. The summer air was freshening to my heaving lungs as I swatted at small knats. Her giggling was flowing through the wind and I tried to figure out where she was. Making a sharp turn, I hit my toe against something hard, and I fell to the ground. My hands moved in quickness to break my fall, and I managed to save my face from the impact.

"Emilie, you are so loud. Louder then 'Nam," Caroline piped up behind me. Laying on the ground still, I twisted my head to look over at her. She was beaming at me, and shook her head. "You tripped on what, now?"

_  
I looked down to see my captor. It was something brown sticking out of the ground. I was a bit confused, but I lifted my hand up to pushed back from of the grass. It revealed even more of the brown hardness. "Caroline, what is thi-"_

"It's the swing!" Caroline cut me off, looking past my vision. I narrowed my eyes and followed suite. She was right. The rotting plank of wood was halfway covered by grass and dirt, and another plank was nearly hidden. Large twine ropes that were tied firmly to the ends were still visible, but the weather had worn them down greatly.

_  
"Where the old woman was buried," I said softly, I was forgetting for a moment that the old woman was my own imagination. "She's right under me,"_

"Em...you made that up," Caroline reminded me gently, as she kneeled next to me, giving me a look of concern. I glanced up at her, and a wave of realization hit me. I had made that up. 

_  
"You're right, you're right," I whispered a bit breathlessly, laughing. "I'm letting my ideas get into my head, you know," as she hoisted me up. I stumbled, and began brushing myself of the dirt and other natural elements. She then smiled at me again, and nodded her approval. "C'mon," she grinned, and turned to the jungle of the yard, making her way through. I watched as she fearlessly swung at the long lengths of grass, and took one more look at the broken swing, the broken past. Biting my bottom lip, I then began whispering to myself over and over again as I began following Caroline too._

'Where has my heart gone?  
An uneven trade for the real world.  
I want to go back to,  
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all.'

_  
"It's not true. It's not true. It's not true. It's not true."  
_

_  
_{Joker's Point of View}

She still had not waken up. What do I have to do get some good help around here?

I was grumbling, thinking about ways to kill her for sleeping so late now. I guess she didn't want to see how good she looked in that video. Hell, I know I would. And plus, I always like to brainstorm how she should die once I was done with her.

Finally, the loud lady on my gritty TV drew me out of my thoughts. I stared blankly at her, licking my lips, the screen flickered, and I started to register her words.

"...the video that was sent to the DA's office this morning is infact disturbing. Officials say that the woman in the video is indeed Salem's author and a bestseller in Gotham, Emilie Groves. Offcials state that she seem to be very calm in the video, the way she spoke indicated that she was slightly enthusiatic. Back to you, Brian,"

I had to grin. The witch didn't know it, but our video was taking Gotham by storm. Into chaos. God, how I loved chaos. Maybe I should wake up her and show her?

As I stood up from where I was sitting, licking my lips, I glanced at the TV once more. I then made my way to the hallway, and my fingers snaked their way into my vest to pull out the knife. I had been wanting to see the big smile on her face sometime now. That was always apart of my brainstorms. I reached her door, and carelessly through it open. There she lay, sweating slightly, looking almost distraught. It made me squirm in pleasure. She seemed to almost be in alotta pain!

Not caring about the noise level, I stepped over to her ratty mattress on the floor. Knife in one hand, I crouched down next to her. I began caressing the blade on her gleaming next, smirking as she turned her head slightly. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a 'BANG!' grenade. It wouldn't really explode (although the idea of her intestines being fried in the fire sounded lovely), but it would give off a nice, loud effect.

My 'knifed' hand moved to the one holding the grenade, and my fingers gently yet excitedly grasping the small metal stick. I then made a movement to pull it out. I licked my lips.

"It's not true. It's not true. It's not true. It's not true."

I stopped. My eyes shot over to the witch. Her face was screwed up in agony, eyes shut tightly, fingers digging into the mattress, beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks, or were those tears? She was trembling. Her breathing was speeding up.

"Oh god...it's not true....it's all fake..."

For a moment, I had to keep my composure. Her little fit was sending me into peels of laughter. With a sickely sweet voice, I then asked her, "What's fake, 'Milie?" and then I moistened my lips again. She seemed to be lost in this episode. Like it was happening to her body without permission. She looked to struggle to keep herself under control. My smile doubled over; this was fantastic. Her voice was soft; I had to strain to hear her. Her dry lips formed into words.

"The story....the...the house,"

Oh, it was her abandoned house story. This woman amazed me to no end. Her own stories gave her nightmares! Oh, she must be really good to be able to pull that off. Pitiful little thing.

"The story's fake? Well, I was fooled," I countered her, and her brown eyes slowly opened. I smirked down at her, the prank grenade and knife still in my hand. Licking my chapped lips.

_'I still remember the sun,  
Always warm on my back.  
Somehow it seems colder now.' _

{Emilie's Point of View}

'Oh, my god. He was going to kill me.' Those were my thoughts as my eyes caught the grenade and knife. Connected to those items of destruction was a smirking Joker. He was crouched down by my mattress, with a murderous, dominating look in his eyes. My heart jumped ten thousand feet before my body fully reacted.

I knew what was happening. Every bone in my body was shaking viciously, every part of my body was sweating like there was no tomorrow. His presence made me even more nervous. I couldn't even control my own breath. Tears fell down my cheeks by the millions, and I attempted to sit up. I failed miserably, and knew I was going to die.

'Why else would he be in here? With a knife and grenade? He's done with me, and oh Lord, of course that fucking story wasn't real!'

Thoughts were mauling my mind, tearing up my anxiety and spitting it back out. I was now sobbing uncontrollably, and now I felt my legs locking up. My body was locking up. I was in a full panic.

"What's a matter, 'Milie? Did...did I scare you?" The Joker asked me nonchalantly, licking his lips, the laughter in his voice jumpstarted my heart again.

I opened my mouth to say something, I didn't want to disobey him at all. But when I tried to say something, all that came out was disgruntled gasps. I couldn't even speak.

I could feel his smirking growing wider by the second. He stared at me, and put the grenade down. Slipping his knife into vest, he then stood up over me. I watched him with scared eyes, and I tried to edge away from him. But his hands shot out and grabbed me, picking me up bridal style as best as he could with my locked figure.

"You know what I do with people who refuse to cooperate with me, don't you?"

I began to sob even more now. Shaking my head furiously, I was trying to will myself to calm down. It wasn't working. The fear kept building up in me, bubbling beneath my surface and making me shake and quiver. What would he do? I wanted to beg for mercy, tell him I was sorry for not answering, I'd even kiss his feet if I had too.

Somehow, during my moment of blended fears and horror, he set me on the floor. I heard the serious tone of the TV speaking, but I shut my eyes in anxiety again. I began digging my nails into my palm, biting my bottom lip until I tasted drops of blood. I heard him come closer to me, humming calmly. Chemicals wreaked the air.

"So, what's happening to you?" He asked me, giggling, and licked his lips. I opened my mouth to say something, and he began laughing.

"Are...are you panicking? Think you're gonna die now? No, no, no, no! Try again, Miss Groves, try again," and he almost smacked something into my mouth. It was a cloth. I knew what he was doing.

_'Where has my heart gone?  
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger.  
I want to go back to,  
Believing in everything.'_

My eyes glazed over in slight relief. Almost instantly, my muscles turned to jello, and I felt the chemical fumes leaking into my brain. I struggled to look up at him. and his smile was still there. Still laughing at me. Still toying with me. He was having fun with me, I know it.

At long last, the chemicals had it's 'almost' effect, and my head fell down to my chest on it's own. I sat there, enjoying the sensation of my skin mellowing out. His hand roughly removed the cloth from my lips, and he stood up, grunting as he walked away.

I was waiting to be out completely. Oddly, it didn't happened.

My breathing had slowed down now. I was catching my breath. My feet were tingling with an odd sensation, and I was more relaxed then ever. Either I was going insane, or the damned chemicals didn't fully do their job. Which ever one it was, I was grateful.

Distortedly, I could hear the running water of a faucet. Along with splashes. What was that noise? Curiousily, I then tried to look up, and sighed softly. I'd have to crawl. That noise was so intriguing. Numbly, I got into a crawling stance, and awkwardly placed one hand infront of my other one. Immedaintly I was exhausted. But the noise was so damn interesting, it made me keep crawling. I fell over a few times, managing to pick myself back up. I had no idea the Joker was watching me with an amused look.

But finally, I had managed to crawl over to his feet. Without even looking up, I grabbed the legging of his pants and began slowly hauling myself up. I stumbled a few times, but I kept going. The damn faucet was my motivation for some odd reason.

When I made it to a standing position, I blinked a few times, panting a bit. That was beyond tiring. Lazily, I leaned against him, and my fingers clung to his green vest. My legs were giving out, so I practically held onto him for dear life.

Drops of water tickled my eyelashes. I blinked a few more times, and very slowly, I looked up at him.

The make-up was gone. All there was were white-ish drops of water, some laced with red essence from his lipstick. There was a cream face looking down at me, bags under his cold eyes. His lips were a perfectly normal color now, with scars that lifted the ends of his lips up into a smile. It hardly looked evil now; he just looked like a man who suffered an unfortunate accident in his past. His face was lightly lined with wrinkles. He licked his lips.

My fingers soon began tracing his scars, and I titled my head. He mimicked the movement, and began laughing at me. He opened his mouth to say something.

"So..." I slurred slowly, cutting him off once more, "So...there..there izzaman..." I caught myself, and repeated myself. "There is a man...under the...slobby...make-up,"

The look on his face changed instantly from a humorous look to an icy glare. With a swift movement, he grabbed my turtleneck, and shook my violently. I took the abuse, the shaking made my mind all mixed together. My fingers moved to the side of his face, and they reacted to this by clinging to his neck.

When he was done, he opened his mouth once more, andI knew he was going to make me feel worthless. Somehow, the chemicals made me slightly braver. I cut him off once more.

"You know why...why I don't....wear...make-up?" I whispered breathlessly, and he slowly licked his lips.

He stared at me in disbelief. "Shut up," He growled lowly, and I heard true anger in his voice now. That didn't stop me. As long as I was being affected like this, I'll make the use of it.

"Because, Joker...I...I have nothing...to hide,"

"Shut up, witch!" He shouted, more like roared in my face. The anger grew.

"Nothing....to...hide!" I wheezed, my head was spinning. "You're a man of...of truth....yet--"

"Don't make me have to put you to sleep like a dog, Emilie!" He screamed again, and began violently shaking me once more. I took it again, my head bouncing back and forth to the harsh rhythm of his anger. When it stopped, I then said quietly, and carefully did not slur my words.

"You play....a creature of....masquerade,"  
_  
'Where has my heart gone?  
An uneven trade for the real world.  
Oh I, I want to go back to,  
Believing in everything.'_

I seemed to have struck a cord. He stared at me, so pissed off. I wouldn't be surprised if he had steam coming out of his ears. His eyes searched into my soul, and I calmly let him. My eyelids drooped a few times, but I managed to keep them open for the sake of his anger. He seem to have a few thoughts racing through his head, before I began tracing his scars once more. His gaze did not soften, but he didn't stop me.

"I see the chemicals didn't knock you out," He hissed coldly, and there was no smile on his face. He pulled out his knife, and twisted it on it's hilt. "That's peachy-keen. I like you better when you're out completely. Makes it easier for me to think how I'll kill you. No, go to sleep, and when you wake up....well," His lips twisted into a terrifying smile.

His words frightened me, but I didn't get the full effect. One smack from the hilt to my template and I was out cold in his grasp.

_'I still remember.'  
_


	7. Miss Witchie!

I didn't think there was any cars next to the warehouse.

I didn't think alot of people knew where the warehouse was.

Then I had to realize that I wasn't in the warehouse anymore.

The sound of the cars racing down streets, honking rudely at others, people shouting cruel insults or lazy 'hellos' was all so surrel. Bright lights were dancing all over the walls of the room I was in. Different colors flashed in an upbeat manner, and I began to wonder why I ever even thought of moving to Gotham. It was all too much life for me. Quite frankly, it was annoying. Loud church bells rang ever so loudly, reminding everyone of the faith that most people here ignored.

When the last church bell had boomed, I looked up from my assumed sitting position. I was against a grimy wall, my head was on my chest. The window I was next too had no curtains or blinds, just clear glass seperating me from the city. I made to move my hand up to my face. When I did, something else had hit my face also. Confused, I glanced down at my occupied hand.

There was flashing computerized software in my hand. It was green with small little silver gadgets attached to it. There was a small spot where it was flashing a bright neon green. Along with it was two ribbons tied into a fancy bow, green and purple. I made to touch it with my other hand, and that was a failure too.

In that hand was a walkie-talkie. It was blinking the channel it was on. 14. By this time, I was beyond confused. I almost got up to leave the room when my walkie-talkie came to life.

"Miss Witchie!"

The voice made me want to crawl into a hole and die. It was a teasing voice, and the giggling that followed sent shivers down my spine. I had it half in my right mind to ignore it completely. It'd be easy...he'd never follow me... But then I decided to oblige. Pressing the button on my walkie-talkie, I quietly spoke into it after the double deep. "What, Joker?"

"Oh, you answered!" It was as if the smile was seeping through the machine. "You made me very mad earlier, you know,"

I sighed softly, "I probably did. I was going through a panic attack,"

The static was giving me a headache from the walke-talkie.

"You did, 'Milie, very much so. It was quite entertainning. Why, you were talking about the abandoned house. Crying and sobbing!"

And suddenly, this morning's events came flooding into my mind like a hurricane. I felt overwhelmed. "The abandoned house is fake," I said rather firmly to him.

His cackling made me uneasy, but not so much anymore. I waited for him to quiet down. "When you get home, we'll talk. 'Kay, sweetie?" he asked me in a fake, cooing voice.

"Yes, alright," I snapped slightly, slowly hauling myself up. He then spoke again to me, this time his voice was cold, bitter, and serious. "It is 8:20, right?" I glanced around the room, and shrugged to myself.

"I can't tell," I replied back. I heard him humming, and he lazily pointed out, "Look out your window, witch, and to your left!" I did so without question. When I did, I noticed that there were many buildings out there, crowding the city with it's noise and size. Turning to the left, on of the clothing stores had a huge clock on it. A digital. It read 8:20 in big, white letters.

"It is," I confirmed.

"Good, good, good! Now, when the 20 goes up by 10, I'll need you to press the button. By pressing the button, you blow up St. Peter's Church--"

I cut him off, "Why do we have to blow up churches?" I huffed, and spotted the church he was talking about. It was in a gothic style, sitting behind a theatre hall. The gloomy bell hung in the peak and waited silently to call everyone to mass again. Not after this, anyways.

He was quiet. Well, the walke-talkie was quiet. Then his raspy voice came up, "It's all...part of the plan,"

"Plan, my foot," I sighed, I didn't say that part into the walke-talkie. "Joker, you have to tell me what's going on. I don't know why I'm blowing up churches, I have no idea who this Grecco man is, I'm so confused!"

Again, silence was my only answer. Biting my bottom lip, I them swallowed my pride and said into the machine, "I'm sorry. What am I doing?"

"Good girl! Now, like I said. Blow it up at 8:30, and you'll let Gotham _really _see the lights of Heaven!" And his walkie-talkie shut off.

I was in stunned silence. Lights of Heaven? None of this made sense to me. Either Grecco was a deeply religious man and the Joker was being a sick-minded person, or he was referring to the 'witch trials' history where the 'witch gets her revenge', a.k.a. I as the witch. And the Joker still being a sick-minded person.

Then it finally hit me. I was honestly going to blow up a church? What if there were people inside? How was I honestly going to sit there and take people's lives? It would be a terrible, terrible thing for me to do. I'd have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life. Was I willing? All for that blasted Joker?

As I mentally aruged with myself, I didn't notice the five minutes flying by. Now it was 8:25.

"Oh Lord," I mumbled quietly, now I was really getting all worked up. By this time, my excitment level was sky-high. Infact, I think it was broken beyond repair.

26.

What happened to my life in Salem? October festivals, hot and sunny summers, colorful, brilliant springs, and the cold and cozy winters? It was the quiet life and endless apple cider. Now it's the criminal life and endless smiles. Now I can't go back to Salem, I'm wanted. I know I am.

27.

Three more minutes. What would people back at Salem say if I went through with this? I highly doubt they'd call me witch. Oh, the irony!

28.

I was at a loss. Licking my lips, I opened my dry mouth and spoke into the walke-talkie. My voice cracked. "Joker, what if I can't do this?"

In moments, his reply came. " 'Milie, you have to. You and I, oh, we are starting a revolution! Oh, and I'll personally kill you if you don't." it was the sickly sweet voice like always, but I heard hints of concern.

29.

And my mind drifted to Caroline. Where was she now? Had she still continued to paint, like she had wanted to? Had she forget me?

"I wonder how you are, Caroline," I mumbled, and glanced at the clock.

30.

And my finger automatically pressed the button before I had a chance to weigh my options.

What happened next was too surrel for my taste. It started as a low rumbling, followed by bright lights of hells. The lights reminded me of the hospital. Large amounts of bricks shot into the sky, threatening the clouds with it's fiery anger. I heard through the glass as the muffled explosions sounded off one by one, and the church began to collapse. A bellow of dust rushed from the fire as if not wanting to be burned. Seconds later, people began to run wildly from the burning church, screaming bloody murder as cars crash into each other, some managed to zoom away. As if on cue now, sirens went off, and I saw helicopters flying frantically into the area, circling the skies and shinning lights into the fire.

I had done this. I had blown it up. All this happened because of me. I almost dropped the denonator, and I backed up a bit. I knew I had to think fast, but my mind had shut down to all possiblities of getting out of this place.

" 'Milie! Good job! I told you, you'd see the sparks of my friendship!" I also fainted when I heard the Joker's voice echoing.

"Now, grab the gun in your pants,"

Without letting my mind register it, I slowly let my hand drift to my pants. In the waistline was indeed said gun. I gently slid it out, and waited for instructions.

"Shoot the glass,"

Now I was scared. I had to use gun now? I fumbled with the lethal item in my hand, and carefully lifted it up. Clearing my throat, I placed my finger on the cold metal trigger. Biting my bottom lip, I pulled on it. The deafening sound of the shot echoed, and a spiderweb of cracks spread over the glass before it broke, shattering the air with it's piercing crash.

"Now throw the denonator out the window, and come home," he teased me.

My mind was blank throughout the whole process. I didn't know what to think. I didn't want to think. Thinking would only send me into a fit of panic attacks.

I then turned myself around, and spotted the door. I ran over to it, and threw the door open, and practically flew down the hallway. I stumbled as I made my way down the emergency steps, but managed to hold myself up and kept running. When I got to the exit door, I threw myself against it and flung it open. When the night air hit my face in a wind-rushing moment, I wildly looked around for a car. Any blasted car-

He had left me the SUV. How sweet of him, hmm? Jogging over to it, I ignored the screams of the city and got it, shutting the door once I was in. I snapped my seatbelt on, and revved the engine to life, fumbling with the keys as I did so.

"Come on, 'Milie!" The Joker's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. His nagging was making me anxious again, and I finally began driving. I vaguely remembered where the warehouse was. Vaguely.

I began driving down the roads I remembered, careful to make sure I didn't collide with anything or anyone. It was rather difficult, people seem to loose their minds when they don't know whats going on. I had to pass by the burning church, and when I did, the sight stopped me in my driving.

There she stood with her aurburn hair glowing in the fire's light. Her face was a look of awe. I could tell that face anywhere.

"C-Caroline!" I shouted as I rolled down my window, and watched the person turn around to face me. I was right.

It was Caroline. Her look of awe turned to a look of pure happiness in this ironic dismay. She smiled, and began rushing to the SUV, shouting my name in bliss. "Emilie!"

"GET BACK HERE, WITCH!" The Joker's voice screamed.

"Emilie, where have you been! You are a mess, what's happen to you!" Caroline fussed over me, and she reached into the SUV, holding me tightly. When she broke away, I stared at her, and said, "Why are you here? You've got to get out of here! There's a fire, Caroline, it's burning!" in a whisper.

"For my paintings, silly. I needed inspiration. And if things like this happen often, then I'll be rich! Who do you think could have done this?" she teased, only she could make light in this world of darkness.

Her words of questioning made me sick to my stomach. How could I tell my life-long friend that I had caused this tragedy? I was working for the Joker?

"I've missed you, Emilie," She smiled gently at me. And this time, it was the first I had seen a real smile. Not a sliced up make-believe smile.

I had too smile, but the Joker's shrieking made me step on the gas.

"I WON'T TELL YOU AGAIN!"

Shaking my head at Caroline, I uttered a silent apologize as I sped off, leaving a sad and bedazzled Caroline in my wake. I could hear her screams, I imagined her running after my SUV, but I sped up even more.

I hoped she'd forgive me once she saw me on the news tomorrow morning.


	8. Just a Smile

About five minutes ago, he's speaking out of the walkie-talkie and telling me to head to a small bar on 15th Street called the 'Little Boot'. Keeping my eyes on the road, I soon realized that I was getting into the bad part of town again. Nervous? Oh, as always. My heart was pounding as I reduced the speed to a nice and slow 15. People had fallen asleep outside, stuffing themselves in corners, wrapping up in worn-out fleece blanket, shopping carts filled with god knows what, and I expected that atleast some of the homeless people were dead. The street lights were flickering, and two of them were off as I passed a club with booming, erotic music. I watched as the half-covered lusty people felt each other all over, and a man who looked like he had crawled out of a bondage dungeon, glanced at me in my SUV and smirked. I almost hacked up a lung as I choked on my saliva, and shook my head, trembling as I pressed down on the gas pedal. I had to find this bar.

Soon, however, I managed to spot the quaint bar tucked into two different shops. The neon flashing lights indicated it was open, and I paralell parked infront of it, and turned off the car. I sat there for a few minutes and sighed softly, as tears began to fall down my cheeks. I hated this. I hated what I was doing. I wanted to go home and enjoy my coffee and snuggle with my Abigail again. I wanted to wake up and looked out to enjoy the autumn mornings. I wanted to get that trip planned to see Salem's Autumn Festival they held every year. I hated being here in this rundown, pathetic city. And I knew I could leave. Whenever I wanted to, I could tell the Joker I was done, I was tired. I had a feeling he'd understand. So why didn't I....?

"Hey, sexy lady," A gruff voice spoke in my ear. I jumped in surprised, my fingers moving to my face to wipe my tears away. I didn't want the Joker to see me crying. Slowly, I let my gaze look up to see who the voice belong to. My first guess was wrong, because the bondage man as staring at me with this sick smirk. I let out a disgruntled gasp, as he cockily opened my door and grabbed my forearm, pulling me out. My fingers spilled over the gun in pure fright, and I hid it behind my back. He backed me into the SUV and grinned, saying, "Pretty women like you are the first to go in this part of town, love," I struggled slightly, and he began laughing at me. I soon found myself wishing that it was the Joker laughing at me instead! Which says alot, seeing as the Joker is an insane man himself.

I couldn't get the gun out from behind my back. He had me pressed up against the car so hard that my fingers almost pulled the trigger. I was now terrified that I might even shoot myself. Weakly, as more tears fell, I looked up at hm and whispered hoarsely, "Please, let me go," His smirk came closer to my face, and he licked my tears away. "I hope you can think of a safeword in two minutes, bitch," He hissed at him, and the look in his eyes made me trembled.

"I fairly hope you can too!" A giggling voice said, I almost fainted in relief. The man that was holding me in his lust grip turned around slowly to see who was interrupting him. However, one glance told him that he was in for it.

"T-The Joker!" The man spat in fear, and he had let go of me. The Joker, being slightly smaller then the bondage man, grabbed him by his leather collar and smashing him into the SUV beside me. The Suv rocked a bit from the force, and the Joker glared over at me, and one look told me to hurriedly move behind the Joker. I did so obediantly. The Joker then looked back at the man, and said, "Let's play a game of my taste. Kay? Kay?" The man shook his head, and it made the Joker shriek in laughter, and mockingly shouting, "Oh we will, yes we will! You see, " I heard him lick his lips, and the feigned thoughtfulness, "I don't like it when people touch my property. No, no, not at all. She," The Joker sounded like he was geting excited, "She...is my property already. So, she will assist me in this game. Right, 'Milie?" He tossed a look over at me. Wipping the rest of my tears away, I nodded slowly. The Joker gave a double smile to me, then to the man.

"This game involves her deciding who she wants to obey. Since you like women obeying you, let's see how you react when she doesn't. Or will she?" He let go of the man, and took my wrist, throwing me in the middle of them. I watched the man tremble and shake uncontrollably.

"Now, my 'Milie. I command you to pull your gun out and point it at him," I did as I was told, and shakingly pulled out the gun from behind me, slowly lifting it up and pointing it at him. "Tell 'Milie your command." I watched as the trembling man kept quiet, looking away from the gun and me. The Joker seemed to get very pissed off. "TELL HER YOUR COMMAND!" He roared at the man, and I didn't jump. I was getting used to it.

"P-P-Put the-e-e g-gu-u-n d-d-ow-n-n!" The man studdered as each letter quivered on his lips. I had it half in my mind to obey, but remembering what he might have planned to do made me angrily keep the gun on him. The Joker began laughing again, shaking his head. "My little 'Milie loves me. You'll soon learn that you don't need to dress in leather to scare women into submission. Just a smile. Now 'Milie, shoot him!" as he continued to laugh away, his wheezy laughter echoing around the area. The man looked up at me with scared eyes, pleading eyes, silently begging me to spare him. My heart yearned to do so, I didn't want to kill someone, but I knew I had too. Sighing softly, I looked to the side and bit my bottom lip, my anger evaporating towards the man. Closing my eyes tightly, I pulled the trigger. The shot bblasted any other sound away in the town, and I heard the dead body now slipping down the side of the SUV, and plopping to the road in a heap of leather and lost control. Shakingly, I looked over at the Joker, and the tears in my eyes meant a mental breakdown.

He sighed at me impatiently, licking his lips and clicking his tongue. "First victim, huh?" I nodded, my bottom lip trembling now. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed me and held me in one arm, almost too tightly. I began crying then, sobbing into his purple, dirty jacket and he held me up. I couldn't understand why he was doing this at first, but then he moved towards the SUV, and I realized it was so I didn't see the dead man and begin panicking. He leaned over the driver seat. Fumbling with something, he then pulled away from the SUV and turned me towards the bar, so I didn't see the man and blooding oozing from the gunshot.

"You got him right in the kisser, I am impressed," He teased me, letting go of me. I almost tumbled over from the crying fit I was in, but he let me lean against him. I saw him through my salty tears pull out a headset for the walkie-talkie he must have retrieved from the SUV. Plugging the AV cord into the machine, he clipped the walkie-talkie on my turtleneck and placed the headset on me. "Okay 'Milie, ya gotta straighten up for me now. I have some stealthy secret business for you to do." He giggled slightly, and grabbed my forearm, balancing me. I quietly composed myself, and nodded softly to him. "Good, now pay attention," as he made me look at him, yanking my chin firmly to see his clown white face.

"This bar belongs to a mob. They are in the bar right now, having a little pep rally. But you aren't going with me, oh not yet. You can meet them when you're more prettier looking." He was teasng me. I just listened, I was tired of his jokes. "There is a room in the back. A blue room. It's a room with documents. These documents are important, you see. I need you to look for a certain folder called 'April 4, 1992.' It's very dear to me, and my friend Grecco took it without my permission. Climb through that window, and take your gun. Shoot people if you have too. It shouldn't be hard," As he lead me to the side of the building, debris and decaying masses of matter that littered the floor. I looked up at the old, gritty window, not saying a word to him. I just wanted to go home now.

Then the unsuspected happened. He roughly turned me to face him, and all I saw was a look of concern riddled over his face. In the midst of this, I was beyond confused and baffled. He then calmly said, "It'll all be over soon, I promise," with his fingers under my chin so I would look up at him. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, and wiped my tears away. But I nodded at him, and whispered like a little girl trusting the adult in charge, "Okay,"

And right after I whispered my approval, his smile was gone like a secret in the air. He then regained his smile, and giggled as he hoisted me into the window, hissing, "Get going, witch!" I placed my hands infront of me hurriedly, and caught myself before I fell into the dark room of which he was tossing me into. Latching onto the sides of the window, I looked down into my surroundings, mentally cussing the Joker's bipolar personality out. "You know," I said tiredly, repositioning my foot, "If you were going to have me blow up churches and sneak into mob-owned buildings, a cup of coffee would have been nice."

He then began giggling, "I like your wit, but we reside in a _ware_house, not a coffeehouse. Bye, toots," as he then disappeared from behind me. I glanced and sighed, but then I stopped in utter realization. He didn't tell me what to do once I got the papers. "Idiot," I mumbled, shaking my head and biting my bottom lip. Here goes nothing.

I jumped down into the room, and smoothly landed on my feet. The jump made me slightly dizzy, and I was ironically reminded of that song by The Mars Volta, The 'Widow'. The haunting, yet sneaky melody started ringing in my head. I glanced out of the window once more, and then began to manvuer my way around the dimly lit room. I could tell that there where boxes all over the room, stacked up one ontop of each other. I wasn't sure what they contained, but I made sure not to touch them. Quietly, I made my way to the door and felt for the doorknob. I encased the cold metal in my hands and placed my ear against the wooden door, listening for voices. Silence. Eerie, eerie silence. Breathing through my nose, I carefully turned the doorknob and opened it, thanking the Gods that it didn't creak like an ancient tomb being opened. Peaking out, I looked both ways to see if anyone was there.

Nobody. It was a hallway, with an equal of two doors on each side of mine. Down the right of the hallway, the end of it made another right to wherever. The hallway was dimly lit. Gripping the gun in my hand, I tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind me, before moving towards the left side of the wall. I had a sneaking suspicion that if it was a room of important documents, it'd be the farthest away from the hallway exit. Breathing heavily and hand on my chest, I opened the first door. Glancing inside, it was nothing but a bedroom. A trashy bedroom reeking of bodily odor. Grimancing, I shut the door and backed away from it, and spotted the last door of the hallway. Moving over to it, I was careful to perform the 'heel-to-toe' movement as to make the least amount of noise possible. When I reached the door, I pushed it open and looked inside, it was pitch black. My hand slithered around on the wall for a lightswitch, and I flipped it up. The light flickered to life, and I spotted a lone file cabinet and a wooden table with two chairs tucked under it. I quickly moved inside, and put the gun in the waistband of my jeans, before shutting the door behind me. Moving over to the file cabinet, I reached over to it and grabbed the handle, attempting to pull it open. It wouldn't budge. I looked down at the cabinet.

It had a turndial on it, and above the turndial was written in permanent marker, 'Try Again, Diana,'.

I almost kicked the blasted cabinet in frustration. I then sat down at the table, fuming with anger. How was I suppose to open it! I had it half in my right mind to sit here and fume, but I know that the joker was expecting this of me. Glancing around the room, I tried to find if anthing was 'out of the ordinary' like last time at the bank, but the room was plain and simple. Nothing. I sat there in utter irratation, running a hand through my messy yet somehow untangled hair. I knew so far that the man let his code sit in the wide open for anyone smart enough to see-

'Try Again, Diana.'

Oh, for the love.

I crouched down and placed my hand on the turndial, and closed my eyes. _'D is the 4th letter in the alphabet. I is the 9th, I think. A is first. N is the....the...' _I mentally counted and ticked my fingers off one-by-one. _'14th. And A is first again. That gives me the code 49-11-41.' _

My fingers began spinning the turndial into that number, and I heard the approving click of the code I gave. I then smiled softly and pulled the file cabinet open. Glancing down into it, I read off the small tab seperators and murmered quietly to myself the date that joker told me. They ranged from 1972 to 2009. My eyes glanced over till I found the 1992 folder, and I fingered the contents till I found the April papers. Sliding the three papers out, I read the front of it that said, 'The Joker'. Finally, I had found them. I skimmed through the papers, and shut the file cabinet, standing up. Quietly, I whispered into the headset that the Joker gave me and pressed the walkie-talkie button, "I found the papers, Joker,"

I got no reply. Instead, I heard the heavy, angry footsteps coming down the hallway. Panicking, I stuffed the papers into my turtleneck and pulled my gun out. I was going to get caught. I was going to get caught. I was going to get caught! Backing into the wall, I stumbled slightly as the door burst open, and in stepped four people. Three men and the Joker. The man in the front looked at me and his facial expression told me I was fucked. The other two men were behind him, and the Joker was last. I whimpered, my gun still up. The man took a step towards me, and my eyes grew wide. I was rooted to the floor in sheer terror.

"Who are you, eh? What the hell are yous doing in here? How'd ya get in here?" The man demanded of me, shoving the gun out of my hands. He was in a maroon shirt, slightly chubby, gold chain around his neck, and a moustache. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was left speechless. Wasn't the Joker going to do something? Say something, at the least? I covered my mouth in fright, wanting to sink into the wall. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" The man shouted again in that Italian accent. I gasped as he pulled my hands from my face, and pulled me to the chair, making me sit down. I did so, trembling and cowering in fear. The man began talking to me again, saying, "You know, it's a shame. Terrible shame that I havfta kill a pretty little think like youself because you was snoopin' around. Where's my gun, Giovan-"

"If...I may," a sly, smug voice asked out loud. I turned my head frantically to see that the Joker had spoken out, and finally. He stepped past the two other men, looking at the one who was interrogating me. "What, let a clown do a mobsters' job?" the man snapped, shooting daggers at the Joker. The Joker licked his lips, and pulled out his knife again, giving me an ice cold glare. "Yes, Angelo. I can take her off your hands easily while you....ah, look for what she may have taken?" As the Joker towered over me, and I didn't know what was going on. I was still scared, but now it was subsiding. The man named Angelo took a glance at me, and stepped back, smirking. "Yea, alright. Yous take her and kill her in the back alley. My boys will take her somewhere and dump 'er." And the next thing I knew was the Joker had my turtleneck in his grasp and he was yanking me up, pressing the knife to my lips and saying, "You...you look scared! Is it the scars?" and by hearing this, I realize that those question were meant to scare only.

"Well, don't be. You look like you could smile too!" And he grabbed my hair harshly, dragging me out of the room and shrieking with laughter. "Let's put a smile on that face, 'Milie!"

I heard Angelo mumble something to the other two, and then shouted in sudden realization, "He knows her!" and a lot of noise clamboring towards us. We had gotten to the hallway. The Joker laughed again, and held me upright, "Can you run, witch?" I nodded to him, and smiled slightly. It was all an act. He threw me another devilish smile, grabbed my wrist, and we both began running down the hall, skidding to the right and pounding out into the bar area. I followed close behind, and my dorky smile appeared when it started hitting me that the Joker wasn't going to let me die. But I'm sure that when we ran into the bar, the mobsters all stopped talking to see a sadastically smiling Joker with a girl who was smiling also. It must've been an ironic sight.

"Joker, what are you doin'?" one of the men asked, standing up with a gun pointed at us. I was stunned, but not scared. I looked up at the Joker, and he calmly handed me a doctor's mask from his vest, casually handing it to her. I was confused, but he pulled one out himself too, and put it on, motioning for me to do the same. I did so, slipping the mask over my mouth and looking back up at him. it then hit me at the most ineteresting time that he was atleast foot taller then me.

"I asked ya a question, Joker!" the man shouted again, cocking his gun. The Joker looked at him, and held a finger up at him, as if asking for just a moment. He then reached into his purple jacket, and pulled out a small vial filled with purple liquids. He handed it to me and then said loudly to the men, a wave of giggles shaking his voice, "A witch never leaves home without her potions!" I sort of got the hint. I glanced up at him once more, and for the sake of the Joker's humour, I dramatically Held my hand out with the vial, giving the confused men a cold, hard stare, and shouting, "Something wicked this way comes,"

I carefully reeled my hand back and threw the vial, hitting the table they were sitting at. The vial exploded on the table, stainning it, and vapors began to materialize. The mobsters started shouting, attempting to back away from the table, knocking over other tables and chairs. The Joker's wheezing laughter teased and mocked the scared mobsters. He held my wrist, and lead me calmly and casually out of the bar. I glanced over my shoulder and back at them to see them laughing uncontrollably. When the Joker finally yanked me out of the bar, I looked up at him and said, "What do those papers say?" and the Joker looked down at me, licking his lips and replying, "That was quite a show, 'Milie."

"The papers, Joker," I huffed now, not letting him change the subject. He pretended to look put out and pouted his bottom lip, before grinning. "Persistant."

"I am. Now tell me," I replied, watching him carefully as we made our way to the SUV. I spotted the dead guy I shot earlier and stopped, closing my eyes and refusing to look at him. The Joker caught this and rolled his eyes, roughly turning me around and making me walk backwards. "Well, you see, I used to work with this man in a mob named Vincent Grecco. He was my partner, nice guy, didn't mess around." the Joker licked his lips, "One day, however, he stole money from me. Stole the money I was to give to the boss. Well, when the boss found me, and I didn't have the money, I was almost killed. So the snake took my money and planned for me to die. These were days days before I found things funny," He grinned down at me, and I gave him a disbelieving stare. He looked at me, confused, and asked, "What, something in my teeth?"

"You're having this elaborate goosehunt because of that?!" I said loudly, narrowing my eyes together. The Joker started laughing hysterically, bouncing up and down on his heels. His make-up was creasing, the red was fading, and his black was crawling down his face. I watched him and almost slapped him for the mocking laughter, but then he slipped his hands into hers, and swung them around a bit, replying, "If you're good at something, Emilie, never EVER do it for free!"


	9. Criminally Isane

I stared at the Joker in disbelief, and shook my head slowly at him. His everlasting smile made my lips turn into one also, but it was a slight one. I then raised an eyebrow, and said gently, "Where are we goi-" But I was cut off as the roaring sound of police cars rushed into the area, loud speakers shouting at us, and the blinding lights flashing all over our bodies. I froze in the spot, looking up at the Joker. Squeezing his hands tightly, I almost fainted. We've been caught. We've been caught! The Joker sensed my fear and grinned, licking his lips and turning to the police, proudly obeying them and holding his hands up. I was frozen to the spot.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP, MISS GROVES!" one of the police shouted at me, and I attempted to, but the complete shock had me left in a state of nothingness. The Joker calmly took my hands and lifted them up in the air with his as if we had one a wrestling match together. My eyes scoured the area, and I realized that maybe half of the Gotham Police Department was here. Were we that wanted and dangerous that they needed so much backup? I watched as two of the police men came over to us, telling us our rights and forcing our hands behind our backs. They had gone into the bar and were now arresting the mob members also. I recognized Angelo and gasped slightly, as Angelo made a jump towards me. His police officers held him back, and I bit my bottom lip. What had I gotten myself into? The officers started to manhandle me slightly, yanking me towards the cars. I threw my head over my shoulder, and was relieved to see the Joker coming towards the same car as mine. He was smirking the whole time.

They lowered me into the back of the police car, barking at me to scoot over as the Joker sat down next to me. When the car door shut, I glanced out the window, spotting a news crew a white van parked beside them, with huge black and white letters on the side of the van that said GCN. Laying my head against the window, I sighed softly and closed my eyes, repositioning my cuffed hands behind me. Silently, tears fell down my cheeks. I didn't cry, but tears kept falling. My mind was going to Salem, where I lived quietly and let my imagination run wild. Where I could stare out my windows and watch the moon glisten in the sky, and the stars twinkle ever so softly. Where I could listen to the rain, and enjoy the sweet hickory bonfires in the summer. Whre the leaves would swirl around, where the snow would blanket over the town and give it a cozy look. The memories slid down my cheeks in sparkling tears, and I put my head down, now crying softly.

"Cheer up witch. I still have tricks up my sleeve. In the end, you'll be right where you want to be," The Joker said to me, and I opened my eyes a bit, looking over at him. He glanced at me quickly, and I had to smile through my tears. He didn't smile back, but leaned back against the car seat. I followed suite, laying my head.

When we arrived at the police station, I was taken to an interrogation room. My police officer roughly threw me in the seat, and I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming at him. He left the room, shutting it and the silence filled the air. I was quite aware that the windows were two-way mirrors. Quietly, however, I sat there in the room, looking up at the lamp that swayed slightly. I sighed a bit, and waited for what seemed like hours, until the door opened again. I looked over to see who it was. Gordon. He shut the door behind him, and leaned against the door, watching me carefully. I watched him also, and crossed my arms slightly. Then he walked over to me, and set his hands on the table infront of me, leaning over and giving me a slight smile.

"Emilie, Emilie, Emilie," he said calmly, as if he was scolding a child.  
"Comissioner," I said softly, watching him with narrow eyes.  
"I hate to have our next meeting like this," he said.  
"Agreed,"

He glanced at me up and down, before sighing and pulling out the chair, sitting down. He looked at the floor for a moment, before up at me, and I figured he was going to just cut to the chase. "Emilie, you know why you're here?"

"I was running wild with the Joker, I suppose."  
He looked at me, baffled. "You suppose? Emilie, you blew up a hospital, a church, helped produce a threatening video, conspiracy to murder Mr. Grecco, killed a man, and trespassed on private property.  
I narrowed my eyes, "Forgive me of my last 'sin'. That private property was mob-owned and you arrested them. So technically, I did you a favor."  
With a defeated sigh, Gordon looked down again, and shook his head. "Miss Groves," Ahh, he's being formal now, "I don't want to get harsh with you so I'll ask nicely. What is the Joker's next move?"  
"I've no clue,"  
"Don't play dumb with me, Miss Groves. You're at his side twenty-four-seven. We believe you even reside with him! You know his plan exactly,"  
"Au contraire, I don't,"

"Miss Groves, you're still alive, that means he trusts you. If he trusts you, he's told you everything. Now, what's the next church he plans to blow up!" Gordon had raised his voice at him, with a furious look in his eyes.

"I honestly don't have a single clue," I hissed, lying through my clenched teeth. He stood up, almost knocking his seat over as he began to pace slowly, trying to calm down. I watched him carefully, wondering if they were questioning the Joker too.

"Okay, Miss Groves," He stood to face me, loosening up his tie, "Has he force you to do any of this?"  
"No," I replied simply.  
"Has he harmed you in anyway?"  
"Yes, but it didn't make me cry." I pulled up my left arm sleeve and turned my arm palm-up. The 'J' that was carved in there was crusted with my blood, scabing over and resembling a messy design.  
Gordon looked at it carefully, and averted his eyes up to me, "So, he's marked you."  
"I believe so."  
"So that means you and him have had sexual relations together."  
I almost choked on my saliva. Coughing, I glanced up at him with wide eyes. "What? Sex with...sex with him? No, it never happened. We are just...business partners," I had to smile.  
"Business partners? So he's paying you?"  
"Alright, Comissioner, I'll put it in better terms. I'm his slave," I said the last part overdramatically.  
"But you do know his plan,"

Finally, I had had enough of these stupid games Gordon was playing with me. Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a cold, hard stare and straightened my back, before standing up and glaring at Gordon. "I am nothing more then mere property to him. He tells me what the plan is when it's taking place. I know nothing more. Now, if you please, I'd like to sit in a bloody cell and rest." as I rested my hands on the table, leanning on them. Gordon stared at me with disbelief. Well, last time we had talked, I was a quiet, reserved woman. Now, however, I was plain tired. Nodding a bit, he walked over to me and grabbing my arm with a tight grip, and leading me out of the interrogation room. He pulled me into the main department of the station, police officers were staring at me in disbelief. Men in the other holding cells were whistling at me, and I almost threw a nasty insult. Keeping my mouth shut, I let Gordon open one of the holding cells. I entered it, keeping my head up high, I looked around and saw that I was sharing it with the Joker. He smiled at me, and looked at Gordon teasingly, licking his lips.

"Did my little witch give you what you wanted, comissioner?" he mocked, as I took a seat next to the Joker, and calmly looked ahead of me. I ignored the catcalls of the men, and heard Gordon's irritated reply, "No, she was very stubborn to tell me anything."

"I wonder where she learned that," The Joker asked thoughtfully. Gordon threw him a disgusted look before shutting our holding cell door, and muttering something to the attending on-duty officers who was guarding our cell. "Did you tell him anything, 'Milie?" the Joker asked me now, looking down at me. I heard Gordon's voice stop, like he was trying to listen. I looked up at the Joker, and pulled off a confused face, replying softly, "Tell him what, Joker? I know nothing,"

The Joker smirked at me, licking his lips. I looked away from him and stared off into the spare infront of me.

Time began to pass away slowly. I was glancing at the clock every ten minutes or so, yawning here and there. I didn't know what the Joker was planning. He was very quiet, looking at all the cops in turn, and the surroundings he was in. I watched him for atleast an hour, my curiousity peeking out from under my shy exterior. From what I gathered now, I wasn't so afraid of him as a person. The fear only rises up when I feel I haven't done something that pleases him. And of course, him threatening to kill me if I don't do as he wants. In a way, I was beginning to trust him more and more each day. He was just a person with no plan. He made it up as he went. And for the good or bad, he felt the need to take me along with him. It's not that I wasn't willing, I just didn't want to be killed or left behind when he was done.

Two hours passed by. I grew tired, very tired. My eyelids were extremely droopy, as I yawned even one more time before my head gently laid down on his shoulder. I don't think he cared at all, and not in the nice way. I seriously didn't think he cared if I was tired or not. But he didn't move me, he let me lay my head there. Closing my eyes, I drifted off into an uncormfortable slumber.

"Joker, Groves, wake up!" a familiar voice grunted. I mumbled to myself softly, as I felt someone gently push me off his shoulder. Tiredly, I rubbed my eyes and looked at who was touching me. It was a police officer. I mumbled incoherently, laying my head back down, wanting to go to bed. My body ached. The officer, I suppose, made to shake me a bit, and I heard a sharp growl. It was followed with, "Don't touch my property," The officer didn't dare wake up me after hearing that. But the Joker nudged me awake. I opened my eyes and looked up at the Joker, asking, "Where are we going?" The Joker only laughed slightly at me and stood up, offering his arms to the officer and pouting his bottom lip out, then licking his lips. "Take me away, over yonder and to the padded cells!" as he erupted into a fit of giggles. The officer uneasily cuffed the Joker, and soon I ws cuffed too.

"Where are we going?" I asked again. Another police officer that I had just noticed was standing outside our cell replied sharply, "To Arkham Asylum, so they can deal with you freaks." I raised an eyebrow at him and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I walked behind the Joker, and hissed at him, "You had better been thinking of a way to get us out of this mess,"

The Joker looked over his shoulder at me with a murderous look, a look that made my heart jump several beats with pure and unlaced fear, and inquired sweetly, "Are you questioning my capability?"  
Hurriedly, I shook my head no, and he giggled, licking his lips. "I didn't think so, witch,"

When we got to the Asylum, the Joker and I were taken up to an evalution room. It was like a doctor's offices, only the gurney in there had restraints that look like there were bloodstains on them. Actually, the whole gurney looked like it had a blood bath. The room smelled of horried chemicals, and I could faintly hear people screaming screaming in terror, or perhaps it pure insanity? Who knew, I sure didn't want to know. The officers left us in there with two nurses, one male and one female. The female nurse, Miss. Annette, began to do a physical examination of me. She checked my breathing, drew blood from me, moved my arms and legs around, and asked me dull questions. I answered them quietly, and knew the Joker was getting the same treatment. Once or twice the Joker refused, and the second time he 'acted out' I was pulled from the room and into a different examination room. I stayed quiet the whole time, as the Joker's wheezing laughter haunted the halls of the asylum. I had grown to feel safe around that laughter.

In this room was a shower. I was given the opportunity to shower and wash myself and my hair. The shower was luke warm, and it felt wonderful to feel the sensation dance all over my skin. I lathered my skin in the generic smelling soap twice, and my hair three times, and finally conditioned. I was finally clean. When I stepped out, I was given an orange suit that had 'ARHKAM' printed in black letters on the front, and the code, '148642.' I almost laughed at the nurse, but instead I quietly slipped it on and was lead into a different room.

Miss. Annette pushed open the door and I walked inside. There was a desk in the middle of the room, where a man was sitting. As soon as I saw him, I knew I was going to despise him. Miss Annette sat me down in the seat infront of him, and I waited for the man to say something. I pushed my wet, curly hair behind me ears. He busily marked down some things on his clipboard, huming to himself. Soon, he looked up at me over his stupid glasses and asked, "Emilie Fay Groves, is it?"

I stared him down and nodded slowly. He then looked at his papers and introduced himself, "I'm Dr. Benson. I'll be your psychiatrist for the next ten years-"  
I cut him off, standing up and smashing my fists on the table. Oh, my excitment level? It was gone by now. "TEN YEARS?! _TEN YEARS! _TEN YEARS AND I HAVEN'T DONE _ANYTHING _TO DESERVE THIS! TEN YEARS WITH _YOU_?" I screamed shrilly. Dr. Benson took his glasses off and looked up at me, raising an eyebrow. "We'll put you in for anger management-"

"What?!"  
"-Sucidial therapy sessions-"  
"_What?!"  
_"And now, if you'd like to sit down, I have a few questions."

I was fuming beyond belief. Nope, I didn't like him already. Shaking with utmost anger, I sat down with a plop and crossed my arms, saying sharply, "Continue."

"Well, Miss Groves, I have been presented with your case. I'm happy to say that we're able to take you in and house you until you can get a grasp on reality again. Running loose with a clown has got to have damaged your sense of right and wrong. We'll give you a daily routine to get you back into a normal life. If you behave, you might get out in five." He then handed Miss. Annette my papers, and said, "You'll meet with me every week. And you'll get an hour with the Joker. Any questions?"

"Yes, actually," I straightened up in my seat and looked at him squarely, giving him a dangerous glare. "On what diagnosis am I here for?"

Dr. Benson flipped through his papers a bit, marking something down and then looking back up at me. He then spoke slowly, "Criminally insane, Miss Groves."


	10. Aqua Offensus

Mornings at Arkham were beyond ridiculous. Now I know the reason why the Joker is the way he is.

I've been here for atleast a week now.

First off, Miss Annette likes to treat me like a little girl who has a temper problem. She was in the room when I woke up, used the restroom, showered, changed into another orange Arkham suit that made Halloween's orange want to look down in shame, even while I brushed my bloody teeth! She told me it was standard procedure for the criminally insane, but I honestly didn't care. It was annoying, and her damn squeaky, faked authorized voice made me want to stick a broom up her ass. Yes, being here has definately changed me.

After I do my daily morning routines, I get food down in the mess hall. Most of the people there don't eat, they're usually itching themselves and bawking like chickens or screaming about how the nice old ladies give them lollipops for reasons I dare not ask. I get put in a barred area, next to this child molester who likes to sever the toes of his victims and hang them around his neck like a garland. Whenever I sat down, he'd ask me how my morning was. I never answered him, quietly eating the food that looked like it was breathing. I'd finish the food and get taken to Room 160 for my anger management classes. I'd sit down in those classes, and had grown accustom to setting my arm on the right side of my chair, because the nurses and teachers chain that arm down incase their patients got out of hand. The chairs were screwed to the floor for extra protection. I was never a very angry person, so I never spoke during these sessions. They were all men in this class meeting, and when I first entered the class they thought I was in the wrong room. I quietly told them I worked with the Joker. They shut up and didn't speak to me again.

When that class ends at 10:30 a.m., I was escorted down to the courtyard that filled with chairs, common garden flowers, and a tree in the back of the courtyard whose leaves were turning the colorful hues of death. Oh, and it was filled with insane fools. I sat under the tree, often keeping to myself, sometimes taking a short nap as the autumn air carried my worries away, if only for a bit. Then Miss Annette would come and wake me up like a little girl once again. Then she'd lead me to my second session; suidicial therapy.

The doctor was this young woman named Dr. Dusk. She was a sweet lady, with dirty blonde hair kept up in a messy bun, pretty green eyes, and flawless skin. When she first saw me, she recognized me as the Nobel-prize winning author I used to be, and the criminal I now was. She told me excited that she had read all of my books, and her favorite was _The Luna Moth_. I deemed her as a respectable lady, and she even gave me the respect of refering to me as Miss Groves instead of Emilie. I had told her the story of how I got involved with the Joker. "You aren't the least bit mad," Dr. Dusk told me, to which I agreed. Instead of having to do work in this session, she'd let me read the books she'd bring in for me at the asylum's library, since patients weren't allowed there. Lately I had been reading old alchemy books and magic tricks. They kept me amused as I barely listened to the whinning and crying of the patients.

I got to go outside again after that session, but this time I got to see the Joker. He wore no make-up, but he was always handcuffed, with his male nurse always watching from afar. His hair was not a mess anymore, but it was clean and untangled, yet still that tinge of green. Time and time, I got more knowledge about him, and how he thought.

The doctors were often baffled at how the Joker's personality changed around me. He'd become more joking, less violent, and even slightly relaxed. But they did notice that it I said something too bold around him, then he'd put the fear of God right back into me. His bipolar seemed to weave in and out of our conversations, and I've been slapped by him a dozen times by now. But the doctors realized that I wasn't angry about that, that I always profuriously apologized to the Joker after I said that I had. I was like his little pet with certain advantages. I knew my place around him, but I know I wasn't just a pile of worthlessness to him either.

Soon enough, the blasted Miss Annette would come get and pull me to my next class, and my second most-dreaded session. Dr. Benson. She'd lead me down the slighty filthy corridors, and into the dimly lit office of which I grew to hate more and more each day. Today was going to be the same. Dull questions, snapped replies, conversation going no where. I spotted him marking things on his clipboard like he always did, and he'd offer me a seat infront of his desk. It was so routine! I sat down, pushing my hair behind my ears and looked at him with hard eyes.

"Good Morning, Emilie,"  
I stiffened, and gave him a strained nod.  
He then sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, pushed his glasses up, and laced his wrinkled hands together on his knees. "So Emilie, how you are feeling today?"  
My upper lip twitched. "Horrible. I don't want to go to my water therapy today. It's utter bullshit. I'm not even insane,"  
"Criminally, you are, Emilie. You still haven't told me what possesed you to do those things."  
"Criminally, I'm not. Insanity in when you are incapable of stringing a gramatically correct sentence together while having the urge to swat at invisible flying dogs. I am perfectly sane and normal,"  
Dr. Benson stared at me with a slight flare to his nose, and shook his head. "A normal person wouldn't blow up building for fun, Emilie,"  
"A normal person wouldn't send a person to _water therapy _to 'unlock memories', like your INSANE staff here," I spat, and glared iced at him. He was teasting my patience again, "And you wonder who is really loosing there mind here."  
"Emilie, something else is bothering you."  
"I've told you about that bloody nurse. The male one,"  
Dr. Benson gave me a look of feigned sympathy. "Now Emilie, you know that no one here would rape anyone."

For the past two nights, my male nurse has taken it upon himself to take his silly sexual frustrations out on me. He escorts me to my cell late at night, and will lock the door behind him and bind me, before gagging me and stripping my clothes off. I've tried showing the bruises that he's left on me, but Dr. Benson insists that I do it to myself. What's worse, I'm so afraid to tell the Joker out of plain fear that the man would end up dead the next day, adding more time to our sentence. Not that they were letting the Joker out anytime soon.

"It's something else bothering you, Emilie. You're so easy to read,"  
"You are too, but the book is boring me," I snapped back at him, and clearly this conversation wasn't moving anywhere else until Dr. Benson believed me. But the stubborn old man refused point blankly, and sighed in slight frustration. "Maybe an extra hour of Aqua Offensus would soothe your mind, Emilie,"

Finally, I snapped at this. Fury shook at my body, and I'd had nough of this fool. "A-An extra hour?" I spuddered, and remained seated as I clutched the arm of the chair, bitting my bottom lip in pure hatred of this man. "You know something, Dr. Benson? Before I came here, I was a quiet, reserved woman. I was calm, I never had an anger problem. Ever! But being here in this place _makes _people go insane! You're damned water therapy shit doesn't work, doctor! IT DOESN'T WORK!" as I finally lunged over the desk at the doctor, and I pinned the old man's hands above his head, screaming in his face. "_YOU AND YOUR LUDACRIS IDEAS OF THERAPY MAKE PEOPLE WANT TO GO MA-" _I was cut off as a male nurse had hurried over and grabbed me roughly, slipping his hands under my arms and locking them around, restricting my movement as I struggled furiously, kicking and screaming at Dr. Benson. My vision blurred as I frantically sought to be released, wanting to destroy that stupid ignorant doctor who was currently and calmly getting up, picking things off the floor.

"Send her to the water therapy room, please,"

I screamed viciously, tears falling down my face as the male nurse began hauling me out, "IT DOESN'T WORK! IT'LL NEVER WORK!" as I struggled even more, kicking and squirming in the man's grip. He tightened his hold on me, and I felt my breathing being constricted. I then calmed down as he got he out in the hall, I just wanted to breath now. He loosened his grip on me, sllightly, and I was lead, --no, more like hauled off--, to the water therapy room. The sounds of splashing water and people gasping for air soon started floating down the corridors, and I began sobbing even more now. The low buzzing of the machines in there made me want to just hang myself right sign next to the door read out, 'Aqua Offensus Therapy'. And when the door opened, the breeze that carried everyone's fears and hatred blasted me in the face, and my own emotions got caught and swept away also. Now, I was just like everyone else down here.

The room had atleast five small pools. In the middle of each pool was a column, ontop of the column was a chair that had restraints. There was a control stand at the side of each pool, and three of the pools were currently in use, doctors standing at the control podiums and people soaking wet, constricted to the chairs and gasping for air, screaming and bouncing in the seat. Screaming silent prayers in incoherent words. I was pulled to one of the pools, and my male nurse dragged me through the walkway that rose above the pool water. The smell of cholorine stung my nose as I was locked up in the seat, buckled up and fastened in. I began struggling again, trying to break out of my bonds but I realized I was failing miserably. My male nurse stood at the control podium, and watched me carefully, before pressing a lever down on the control panel.

With a sudden lurch my seat began to lower down, and I felt my heart speed up. I began screaming hoarsely, staring at my doctor and crying wildly. "No, please don't do this to me! I'm not insane! I'm not insane!" I repeated myself over and over again. I hated the nurse for ignoring my pleas. The icy water started crawling up my leg, weighing down my orange suit and making me shiver. I was trembling in fear, shaking my head and looking around the room in a panic. They were going to drown me this time, I knew it. I always felt like this. My mind started racing as the water kept rising, sendings freezing reminders to my soul that this was all real. Too real. My screaming got cut off as the water reached my chin, and my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I drew in a deep breath, and just in time before the water completely engulfed me and sent me to a world I was too familiar with now. I opened my eyes a bit, and looked around at the underwater pool. It was clear, with blue and white checkered tiles. I despise the tiles. I despise anything to do with this building.

My lungs were beginning to close up. The panic was rising up in my body, and I was feeling lightheaded. I started praying to the Gods for them to lift me out of the water. I couldn't hold my breath much longer. I was sure I was going to die. But the reassuring sound of the seat began to lift up, and I felt the water break over my face. I took in the cool air in my body, gasping and coughing up water. My tears came back, and I began screaming again, still refusing that I had to do this for atleast two more hours. At this point, I realized that I terribly missed the Joker.

And little did I know, he missed me too.

{Joker's POV}

"You act like it's a bad thing, Dr. Benson," I cooed at the doctor, licking my lips and leaning back in the metal chair I was seated in. The fools had me in an examination room that was much like a police station's interrogation room. I suppose they did it to make me feel at _home. _I snorted at this thought, and Dr. Benson glared over at me, looking furious. Well, as furious as a 90-something-year-old crippled man can look. I think he looked much like a constipated bird.

"It is a bad thing, Joker. You blew up buildings again and killed so many people."  
"What's the point?" I said loudly, licking my lips. Honestly, I was confused. Why _was _that a bad thing? "They're all gonna die someday, anyways,"

Dr. Benson rolled his eyes impatiently, and his lips rolled into the words I didn't want to hear anymore. "Harley Quinn is here."

I groaned at the thought, and shook my head, licking my lips, "Why haven't you all just killed her off? It could have been a terrible, terrible tragedy. You people are known for those terrible tragedies," I teased, giving Dr. Benson a smirk.

Dr. Benson seemed to catch onto something. I wasn't worried about it. What did this moron know about getting information? This 'session' was routinely. I relaxed even more and propped my legs up on the desk. He then asked me a question that made my mind reel. "Why are you so keen on Emilie and not Harley?"

I hated doctors. I especially hated this idiot. Why did he have to go digging into things that wasn't any of his business? Still, the question did make me wonder. Why _did _I keep Emilie and not Harley? Harley loved to blow things up and kill people with me, she loves chaos as much as me! We were perfect for each other! Yet there was Emilie, this quiet girl whose mysterious I was still trying to unravel. I didn't like how Emilie kept to herself, I'll admit it was pissing me off. Badly. But something about Emilie made me want to actually her hear breathing, and not beg for mercy. Maybe I liked the way she acts when she's drugged out. All stupid and loopy, it's easier to take control over her then. Or maybe it was the fear that always consumed her when I wanted to do something simple like blow up a building. I think I was _actually _missing her. I shook that thought from my head. I couldn't get attached. I was going to ship her off to Salem when I was done with her anyways. "Why, do I get to see her?" I then asked in mock happiness, sitting up straight and bouncing in the seat. I licked my lips.

"No, I would never let her come in here with you,"  
I pretended to be offended, and gasped. "Why ever so not!?"  
"You corrupted a wonderful and lovely young writer's mind for you own selfish needs," Dr. Benson glared at me, and I had to admit, it was hurting my feelings! Okay, not really.  
"Who are we talking about?" I inquired innocently, raising an eyebrow and folding my hands on the table infront of me. I could feel Dr. Benson's anger flaring again.  
"Emilie Groves," He growled, now leaning on the desk over me. I gave a mock look of surprise, licking my lips, and said, "Oh! Her! She's such a sweetie. Such a wi-itchhh, don't you think?"  
"She was a sweetie, but now I feel she should be burned alive, don't you think?"

Dr. Benson had said the wrong thing. I stared at him hard, and I could picture myself tearing smiles into his disgusting wrinkled cheeks. I wanted to now throw this man to the floor and watch him squirm in such agony as I sliced his vocal cords out and opened his chest with a Y-incision, watching with wild interest as his fragile intenstines spilled out onto the cold, unforgiving asylum floor. I stood up, kicking the chair out of my way, and growled. The chair clattered on the floor with a deafening sound. Dr. Benson took a step back, and glanced at me with pure and roaring fright. He began studdering stupidly at me, threatening to call in a few male nurses to restrain me. I began laughing hysterically at the thought, the idea of male nurses grabbing me and throwing me against the wall was a hilarious idea.

"Why don't you bring Emilie in here?" I asked him sweetly, licking my lips and advancing towards him. "Where is my little witch, hmmm?" I had to giggle at Dr. Benson's quivering lips.  
"A-Aqua Offensus Therap-p-py," He answered. My eyes widened. This man had to be kidding me!  
"WHY," I snarled, throwing the desk out of the way, "IS SHE IN THERE!? YOU DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME IF SHE COULD BE PUT THERE!" I shrieked at him, my throat was hoarse and gravely.  
"Joker-r, y-y-you don't own h-h-her," Dr. Benson was trying to reason with me. There's no reasoning with me.  
"YOU ARE GOING TO GET HER OUT OF THERE, AND IT BETTER BE DONE! YOU NOW I CAN MAKE _TERRIBLE _THINGS HAPPEN, AND YOU BETTER NOT TEST ME!" I howled, shaking with anger. My finers were itching to close around Dr. Benson's throat and listen to the sweet sounds of him gurgling for air. I'd like to shove a spoon in his mouth and watch him vomit all over himself for this. No one tortured Emilie except for me. I was her rightful owner. _I _would suffocate her if I please, not these people! Not in a million years! Dr. Benson had inched over to the back way and hit a red button, the damned panic button. I began wheezing with laughter, and widened my eyes. "What, are...are you scared?! Why, don't be afraid!"

His face held unlaced terror as I inched closer.

"You know, I'd like to ask _you_ a question now, doctor, doctor!" I sang to him, grabbing the front of his white jacket and lifting him into the air, throwing him against the wall and smiling, licking my lips. Dr. Benson began smashing the button furiously, and the loud buzzing noise erupted each time the button was pressed. I grabbed his wrist and yanked it up, pinning it against the wall and getting up to his face, giggling.

"Life is just a game, doctor. I've told you this so many times," I hissed in my laughter, licking my lips and smiling. I guess without the make-up I was still a terrifying man. I could see the beads of sweat roll down Dr. Benson face, and I knew I had the old man speechless. Just how I liked my victims. Powerless.

"So, why so serious?" I asked innocently, and began cackling away as the interragotion room burst open, and I was pulled off Dr. Benson in a split-second. It was all just too hilarious. His face screwed up like that. And as for Emilie....

We were going to have a little talk, like a husband and wife should, oh yes we will!


	11. A Spider

It's been two months now.

The burning sensation was flaring from 'down there' to my body, making me shake and tremble. My male nurse continued this vile deed, yanking me by my hair and calling me horrible things that I'll not repeat. I was crying, moaning in pain and I felt my back crack. Screaming, I then attempted to pulling away from him, digging my nails into the tiled floor. He growled at me, yanking harder and continued. Finally, I had had enough. I opened my eyes through my tears, searching frantically for something in my cell to help me. My fingers grasped around the metal frame of my bed, and I succeeded in throwing him off of me. I stumbled a bit on the floor, my fingers racing to pull my pants up and look for something else to knock over his head. It was a failed, sorry attempt. My male nurse cursed as he hit the floor, I heard him grunt in pain. With one hand I held my pants up, and I wildly sung my other arm around to find something. I heard a scuttle as he got up. His face was full of anger and hatred. I shuddered, falling against the wall and tumbling onto my bed.

With a forceful pull on my hair, I felt my body being hurled into the wall. My head was thrown against the stone wall, and my eyes went out of focus. I knew my body had hit the floor fast, and my mind shut down instantly. My body went numb, and I remembered no more. Thank God.

I know I woke up because of a pounding headache. Could it be that I had gotten my head pounded in earlier? Oh Lord, I was thinking like him. Shaking the thought from my mind, I managed to lift my head up a bit. I was still on the floor, my body was aching horribly. My 'down there' parts were throbbing like mad. Somehow, I moved myself against the wall, breathing heavily. My head was spinning. I almost toppled over again, but I held my head, and my eyes came into focus. From the small light I could see my clothes. They had a small splatter of blood on them, torn and frayed in all sorts of spots. I threw my head back softly, resting it against the wall. I moved to see my hands, and I could see huge bruises forming. I held back my tears, now was not the time, and I summoned my strength to stand up and stumble over to the large plexiglass window that saw out into the hallway. I could hear furious screams.

My eyes settled on a woman being escorted rather roughly by two male nurses. Her hair was a mangy blonde, all over the place and in knots and tangles. Her face was a pretty pale, fair with some dirt and it here and there. Her blue eyes were wild; full of malice and trickery. She was struggling like crazy, arching her back, kicking, punching screaming, biting, anything she could do to get out of their grip on her. I saw that other inmates had come to watch also, staring out of their cells. The woman's voice had a Brooklyn accent to it, a sort of tough girl feel. I listened closely to what she was desperately screaming.

"MISTAH J! I WANNA SEE MISTAH J!"

My mouth hung open in shock.

"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S MY PUDDIN'!? GEROFF ME, YOU STINKIN' PIGS! I'LL MAKE YA WISH YA'D NEVER TOUCHED ME!" She was looking over her shoulders, staring back at the inmates and searching hopelessly. Finally, her gaze landed on me. For a minute or less, she calmed down slightly, before she made a jump at my door. I jumped in surprise, but I didn't back away. I was mezmorized by this young woman. I could feel her hope and loneliness seeping under my cell door. It was heartwrenching. She was screaming about how she was going to kill me for taking her 'puddin'. Her face was fierce, like she would stop at nothing to have him. I wanted to cry for her.

"I'LL KILL YA, YA HEAR!? YOU'LL NEVA HAVE MISTAH J, HE LOVES ME! YOU STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

My pity made me watch her. Her male nurses finally grabbed her and began literally dragging her away, with her death threats echoing the halls. Soon enough, her screamings had vanished. I shuddered a bit.

After this dramatical show, I ended up dozing off for God knows how long. Insanity was like a plague here. It always seemed to crept into your heart and slowly take over, like the snow falling on Christmas Eve. It makes you think of the things you never thought of, deeper thoughts that swirl deep in your heart. Insanity, the horrible disease, that rots your soul and covers up the madness with flowers and vines. This way, you don't know you're insane, you only think you're happy and normal. It creates music that flows through your body, helping you think everything it okay. The music encourages you to keep going on, keep going insane. Keep falling into the abyss, it's okay. You're a troubled soul anyways, right? What's the difference now? So enjoy the insanity, let them take care of you. You're done living for yourself now.

I snapped awake when my cell doors were burst open. Miss Annette saw the state of my clothes and assumed I did it to myself. She made me change and took me down to the mess hall to eat dinner. I was forced to sit down, and my arm was chained to the chair I was in. Then I had a tray put infront of me with the usual swamp-gunk they fed us. I picked up my fork, trying to ignore the pain, and played with my food for a bit. I drowned out the other inmates in the hall, those moaning and screaming, some talking to themselves or seizuring randomly. Very few were normal like me. How much longer was I going to have to stay here?

Something odd began happening. The lights in the mess hall began to flicker. Most of the inmates didn't notice, too insane to care, but a few were stunned at it like it was the end of the world. I only glanced up, furrowing my eyebrows. It didn't stop flickering. Off, on, off....on, off, on....off.....on, off.....It didn't stop. Ghosts, maybe? If it was ghosts, I wasn't afraid whatsoever. I used to live in a ghost town....I continued to look up, glancing around. Ghosts, it had to be. But my theory proved wrong; I heard something way too familiar through the intercom.

It was laughter. Long, drawn out, high pitched laughter. Like a clown was cackling at children. I held my breath. The laughing turned into words, frantic, excited words.

"How'dya like the lightshow, kiddies?! Ha! How's everyone doing? I think I'll just be real brief, umm....I miss my little witchie, I think she'll be coming with us tonight. I can't just _bear _to leave her behind, now can I?!"

By this time, the staff was talking into their walkie-talkies, attempting to contained the inamtes in the mess hall. It was getting chaotic; food was flying everywhere, loud shouts and screams, inmates tumbling over other inmates and trying to stand up on the tables. Some had fallen to the ground, crying and laughing at the same time. I sat where I was, unaware that a hand was expertly picking at the lock on my chain. I heard a small jiggle from my chains, and I looked down. A very toned, hand, covered in a doctor's glove, was picking at my lock. His long sleeves had what seemed to be questions written all over it. Distracted, and being the author I was, I read one of the questions to myself. "I am death to those that fly, as I cast their last breath from the silk in my thigh. What am I?"

"A spider," I said aloud.

"Which one are you talking about? Hmmm?" I looked up to see who was talking. The man had a long face, with reddish, brown hair that was matted and tangled. His eyes were green and glittering with mystery and fun. As the intercom continued talking about nonsense I didn't hear, I carefully pointed to the question on his sleeve. He smiled a huge white smile, and whispered, "You're good. Really good. No _wonder _the Joker wanted to get you outta here too!" I had to return a soft smile, as I heard a click, and my lock was free. The man then pulled me up gently, and I allowed him too. In the midst of all this chaos, he held his hand out to me sharply, quirked an eyebrow and said. "The Riddler,"

He said his name as if I was supposed to know who he was. But I was polite, I shook his hand and nodded. "Emilie Groves," He grinned at me again, and I got a good look at his outfit. It was an orange jumpsuit, suitable for Arkham, with huge black question marks drawn all over it. After a few seconds, he grabbed me and began pulling me through the mess hall, dodging inmates left and right, as if he knew every move each inmate would make. I ducked a few times, but ended up tripping on something. I stumbled, and I suppose the Riddler didn't have time to spare, so he swiftly threw me over his shoulder. He was quick to leave the mess hall, the lights still flickering throughout the asylum. I could still hear the Joker's voice haunting the halls. People were stumbling, trying to move out of the way of the Riddler and I. Medical carts were flying left and right.

"...and oh my Lord, look at THAT guy! I've never seen to many adults acting like children! Oh, get a gr-ii-p! HA!" as the Joker's shrill laughter rang out clearly. I only shook my head at the Joker, but hearing his voice finally made me feel safe once more, something I haven't felt since we got here two months ago. The Riddler made his way through the crowd of people, and I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the screamings. After a moment, I was set down on the floor, and a door was shut. The screamings were drowned out.

I opened my eyes, and what I saw overwhelmed me with alot of emotions, good and bad. The Joker, in his Arkham suit, was hunched over and speaking into the intercom mic. He looked up at us, and licked his lips, smiling. "Honey!" He howled happily, smiling his double smile as he stood up, pressing the panic button and sending the sirens off. The Joker scooped me up in his arm and let go quickly, licking his lips again. The Riddler seemed to have a quick-temper, and he growled at the Joker. "Why in the world did you press that button?!"

"Hey, that's not a riddle, you know," The Joker replied smartly, tsking him. I could see the Riddler's temper flaring. The Joker then smiled again, licking his lips and saying, "Okay, we're bustin' outta here. This food is worse then school lunch!" I giggled softly, I was more comfortable in their prescene then anyone else's at this point.

"But pressing that is going to get us caught, you idiot!" The Riddler hissed. The Joker waved it off dissmissively. Grabbing my wrist, the Joker peered out of the doorway and pulled me over, the Riddler following closely. The Joker seemed to get a streak of rebellion moreso then ever, and started to dart out of the door. I went with him, until the Riddler's hand caught my wrist, and I was stuck between the two.

"We have to get my cane!" The Riddler stated, yanking on me slightly. The Joker groaned, stomping his feet on the ground like a little kid. "But we don't have time, Riddley-woo-woo!"

"Yea, mostly because you had to set the sirens off!"  
"Sirens make good escape music!"

"You did that on purpose so we couldn't get my cane," The Riddler hissed accusingly.  
The Joker burst out in giggles, nodding his head. "You can have my cane when we get out of here!"  
"You don't even have one!"  
The Joker looked surprised, raising an eyebrow, "You catch on quick, don't you?"  
The Riddler advanced to him, "My cane has the codes to get out of here, Joker,"  
"Well, we could easily just launch ourselves off of the roof," The Joker replied, rolling his eyes.

The Riddler rolled his eyes, and pulled on me again. I was getting the feeling of being a yo-yo. The Joker shook his head stubbornly, and pulled on me again. "We're leaving!" I could hear the murderous tone that the Joker had, but I pulled my wrists out of their grip. They both looked at me as a backed away, the Riddler's look was of concern, while the Joker's was a look or irritation that I was disobeying him. Calmly, I then said, "Look, let's get his cane, then we can escape." I looked worriedly at the TVs in the room, seeing staff coming our way, "We can't stand around and argue, or we won't get out period,"

The Riddler then nodded in agreement, and the Joker then said rather teasingly, "Are you going to fight for your cane, or do I have to do it for you?"

The Riddler rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath as he then darted out of the room. The Joker then quickly grabbed my wrist and yanking me after them both. After many failed attempts of the staff to stop us (The Riddler was a strong man), and throwing many lunatics out of our ways, we managed to find the Armory room. Going in, The Joker shut the door quickly and looked around, snapping at the Riddler, "Okay, happy?" The shut door drowned out the sounds of the sirens.

The Riddler didn't hear him, as he was carefully picking through the large amounts of confiscated things. Through the process, the Joker spotted his own clothes and skipped over, snatching his clothes and smiling. "Oh good! I was hoping I didn't have to make another outift," I gave the Joker a small look.

The Joker then just handed me the clothes, grunting, "Hold them," I obeyed, taking the clothes and keeping a good grip on them. They smelled of explosives and dust.

"Found it!" The Riddler said triumphly, holding his cane up. I glanced at it. The cane was long and black, with green question marks printed all over it. The top of the cane had a green diamond on it, that had a glossy black question mark embedded on top of it. I was confused. "Riddler, how does that have the codes?" I asked him in my bewilderment.

The Riddler smiled at me, and pulled out the diamond top. Attached to the diamond top was a cylinder wooden compartment. He unlatched the bottom of the compartment, and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. I had to laugh; it was brillant! I watched as he then unrolled the paper, and began reading it off. "From cell, 65 feet west, up 25 feet, 40 feet north, 35 fee-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" The Joker howled at the Riddler, stomping towards him in pure rage, eyes flaming in hatred. He licked his lips. I took a shaky step back, clutching the Joker's clothes to myself in fright, "YOU WROTE IT ALL DOWN IN COORDINATES?! WE'LL _NEVER _GET OUT NOW, BECAUSE YOU JUST _HAD _TO BE CRYPTI-" Before I knew what I was doing, I had dropped his clothes and hurried to the Joker, attempting to hold him back from attacking the Riddler. The Riddler looked amused, saying, "What, you can't handle a riddle? Not smart enough?"

I threw my arms around the Joker's arm, but the Joker had swung his arm back at me, knocking me back a bit. I made another go to grab the Joker, but to my surprise the Riddler had knocked his cane across our heads, sending the Joker and I to the floor. The Riddler's foot came down quick on my abdomen, holding me down and I held my head in absolute pain. My head was throbbing, and I moaned, closing my watery eyes and opening them again. I managed to see the Riddler's cane, pointy end, down at the Joker's face on the floor. The Joker gave the Riddler a hard glare, before clamping his mouth on the cane's point, smirking and giggling. When my eyes began to gain focus and I caught the Joker's wink at me. I glanced up at the Riddler's foot, and knocked my hand as hard as I could against the back of his knee. The Riddler stumbled back, and the Joker snatched the can, running to the other side of the room with it and cackling madly. I stood up also, holding my head in pain.

I held my head and rested it against the wall, replaying what the Riddler's coordinates were. I calculated the distance. _'The Riddler wanted to go to the upstairs stairs from his cell, and the upstairs is the last block before the roof. So we go left from here!' _

"We have to go left and take the stairs up! That's the coordinates from here!" I shouted at them, turning my head to see the Riddler about to advance on the Joker, the Joker was defending himself with the Riddler's cane. They both stopped, and the Riddler stared at me, wide eyes. "She's...she's good," The Riddler mumbled to the Joker, and the Joker nodded proudly, "Yea, I found her first, I did," The Riddler rolled his eyes, snatching the cane from the Joker. I gathered the Joker's clothes, and put on the purple trench coat so I wouldn't have to carrying so much. The Joker licked his lips.

"No fair!" The Joker shouted stubbornly. Suddenly, there was banging at the metal door. I panicked. It sounded like the police was trying to get through. I stepped back a few feet, speechless. My eyes were wide, I could see the door moving with each thrust. The Riddler seemed to be at a lost, staring at the door and trying to think of some way to get around them. I then glanced at the Joker, and he never ceased to surprise me. He was whistling quietly, holding a grenade in his hand that looked like he found hidden in the Armory. He then smiled a double smile, and winked at me. I started to panic even more. Shaking, I watched as the Joker pulled the pin out and threw it at the door. In a flash of events, The Joker had me behind him, and we were all at the back of the room, watching smoke and debris flutter about. I began coughing, closing my eyes. I felt the Riddler pat my back smoothly. The Joker was laughing hysterically. I had to smile slightly.

"I have NEVER seen a leg bentd that way before! Priceless!" He cackled. I finished my coughing, and leaned against a cabinet. It had a rather funny smell to it. Curiously, I opened the cabinet, and it was full of alchemy vials. I gasped. Before the Riddler or the Joker could see, I took a vial and held it in my hand. I just wanted proof that alchemy was real.

When the smoke and debris cleared, the Riddler took my arm, and we all fled down the hallway and up the stairs. It was all a blur to me, the smoke and debris continued to sting my eyes, I had to keep them closed most of the time. We ended up stopping in a small room-like hallway, and the Joker was furiously tugging at the handle. It wouldn't budge. The Riddler pushed him aside, trying to figure out how to open it. We let him for a few minutes, before I gently moved both of them aside. Maybe it was meant for me to find that vial, but I didn't care at this point. I could feel their eyes on me, and I popped open the vial. The powder stung the air, making me almost retch. But I carefully stuck the the mouth of the vial onto the keyhole, and poured it. The metal keyhole melted, and the lock clicked. It was at this time I realized that I loved alchemy.

"How did you do that?!" The Riddler demanded of me, as I pushed the door open, capping the vial. I had a smile on my face, and the Joker was laughing. Suddenly, the Joker grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear, laughing, "Don't tell him," The Joker licked his lips.

The Riddler gasped at this, and I snorted. "No, you have to tell me! I have to know how you did it!" Grinning, I simply shook my head and the Joker grinned at me, then tsked the Riddler for the second time this evening. "My witch...she's magical!" At this, the Riddler's OCD seem to fly off the handle.

We managed to get off the rooftop by shimmying to the side of the large clock infront of the Arkham building, and grabbing onto the hands of the clock. The sirens blared loudly, lunatics were screaming, the usual like it had be for the past three hours of this escape. I held onto the Riddler as he tick-tocked our way down, and landed safely on our feets. The Joker, however, took a nice tumbled and hit the floor. He scrambled up, brushing his Arkham suit off and stumbling over to us. We huddled into the bushes. The Joker changed his clothes quickly, but made me wear his purple trench coat so no one would see my orange outfit. The Riddler, however, had vanished from sight.

"Joker, where did the Riddler go?" I quietly asked him, looking out for anyone.  
The Joker shrugged, licking his lips,"Probably throwing a tantrum somewhere...." As he began to change into his regular clothes. I hadn't known he was, and I turned my head to ask him another question. But the sight of his naked body startled me, and I turned my head against, furrowing my eyebrows. The man was a weird one.

"Here," The Joker grunted, putting his trenchcoat on me. I looked at him, confused, and he stated, "You look like an escaped prisoner, witchie," He himself had finished dressing. Now all he needed was the make-up.

I hid my smile at his play on words, carefully pulling the trenchcoat on and buttoning it up. I then asked him, a bit loudly, "So now wha-?!" But his hand crashed onto my mouth, stopping me from speaking. He pulled me close, his lips to my ears. "Shhh, the Batsy and Comissioner here," he licked his lips again.

Surely enough, when I glanced that way, Batman was talking furiously with Comissioner Gordon, walking briskly to the asylum. I waited till the Joker took his hand off my mouth. Batman and Comissioner Gordon disappeared into the asylum. Quickly, we left the bush, and made our way to the parking lot. The Joker ended up hot wiring a car, and we got it. The Joker made me drive, to which I was glad for. Carefully, I turned the car on and we began driving down to the warehouse, getting on a highway.

"We need some tunes, " The Joker said happily, licking his lips. The news then came on.

"....news has been recieved that the Joker's and Miss Groves' hideout has been found, police are investigating the warehouse as we speak..." a female voice stated.

The Joker mumbled under his breath, eyes flashing with anger. He then turned to me, and growled. "Well, now what do we do?" as if this was all _my _fault. I trembled slightly, but an idea came to mind that I would soon start to regret suggesting.

"We can go to my house. They will never suspect anything," I said to the Joker, and he smiled a double smile, pleased with me. He then pulled out the papers from the trenchcoat, the papers I had stolen from the mob building, and I shook my head. I'll never understand the the tricks up the Joker's sleeves. I smiled softly.


End file.
